Liang Yichao never expected to see Yu Wei's reflection in the glass ahead.
The headphones he hadn't taken off still played Eason Chan's "Ten Years": "Ten years ago, I didn't know you, you didn't belong to me. We were still the same, accompanying a stranger by their side, walking through gradually familiar streets. Ten years later, we are friends, we can still greet each other, but that kind of tenderness no longer finds reasons to embrace, lovers inevitably becoming friends..."
He stared blankly, thinking perhaps his eyes were deceiving him.
This disbelief made him ignore the customs officer urging him forward, requesting his passport and ticket. He furrowed his brow slightly, took off his headphones, and handed them over as if suddenly enlightened...
Painstakingly thorough, the customs officer meticulously verified his documents.
Each time he looked toward the glass ahead, he was distracted.
One glance, two glances, three glances...
