Li Xianglu still couldn't believe it, sitting on the circular couch, focusing intently on the youth beside her.
The stubborn little boy who silently suffered a big boil on his head and went to the village clinic, the child who insisted on finishing his chores before eating, the smart kid who never forgot what he saw.
As she watched, the two figures gradually merged into one, and Li Xianglu wiped away the tears that fell, joyfully saying: "I heard you ran away, your Brother Qin looked for you for a long time, where did you go?"
Xu Wu smiled obediently, moved closer, so his sister could pet his head, the docile look just like the little brother at home, endearing, Li Xianglu stroked his head, also asking about the scar on his head and how he had been these past years.
Li Xianglu was four years older than Xu Wu—who was just nineteen this year—when they first met Li Xianglu was only fifteen, and Xu Wu was barely eleven.
