The night was deep, some people lay in bed planning for the future, while others were in the villa shouting at the top of their lungs.
Gu Zheng looked at Li Yulan, who had been brought back home, with an indescribable look on his face: "Alright, you can't explain those, can you? Then let me ask you, how do you explain the things in the metal box? After all these years, you're still keeping photos with that man? What do you take me for? Huh?"
Li Yulan seemed to have just cried, with traces of tears still on her face: "I've said it's a misunderstanding, I haven't opened that box for years. Besides, apart from the photo, aren't there letters you wrote me too? They're just old things, if you don't like them, just throw them away, why get so angry?"
Just this afternoon, she received a text from Gu Zheng.
It had been two days, and Gu Zheng finally remembered her existence.
