With the last bit of strength he had left, Rong Lan waved his hand toward Qin Miaomiao, urging her to leave quickly, his lips curved into a reassuring smile. Watching her turn and begin to run, his arm finally fell, unable to hold its weight any longer.
Leaning against a small tree, his consciousness gradually began to fade. He stared at the gradually receding figure. His mind filled with the times he had seen Qin Miaomiao; each time, he watched her from afar, seeing her talk with the film crew's staff, seeing her playfully banter with Lin Xiaoxiao, seeing the happy and confident smile at the corner of her mouth, seeing her and Lu Qing holding hands.
Everything seemed so beautiful to him.
Rong Lan's lips carried a content smile; seeing Qin Miaomiao looking happy finally put him at ease. He reached out his fingers toward the gradually disappearing figure; his eyes slowly lost their sparkle, and with a hint of a smile, he closed his eyes, his arm suddenly dropping.
