Mo Chuxi lowered his gaze, looking at the professional data analyses and comparisons before him. Suddenly, he lifted his narrow and cold phoenix eyes, and his gaze turned frigid.
The dappled sunlight outside the car window fell on his sharp and stoic face, creating a sensation of intertwined darkness and light.
The sheets of paper in front of him seemed to act as a catalyst, faintly triggering memories in Mo Chuxi's mind—memories erased by the medication from five years ago, on that night...
That night, he had a dream.
He dreamed of Little Qianyuan, the girl he thought of day and night. She had grown up, her eyes as lively and clear as they were in her childhood—bright and round like crystal.
The girl in his dream had a pure and beautiful face, delicate features akin to a painting, clean and unblemished.
His Little Qianyuan had come to see him.
Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, whispering tender and soft words endlessly into her ear...
