"I love you, Xiaojue..."
"Dad is gone, and you're all I have left, Xiaojue. Xiaojue, you're the best person in this world..."
"Xiaojue, I love you so much..."
"In my whole life, it is only Huang Xiaojue I love..."
Every time she received the living allowance Huang Xiaojue sent her, she would cheer in this way.
Every entry was marked with a red pen—marks Huang Xiaojue himself had made from countless lonely midnights spent poring over this notebook. He could recite every single one from memory.
Her hand holding the notebook trembled slightly. She pressed her back against a tree, tilted her head back, and kept her eyes tightly closed, refusing to let the tears flow.
Huang Xiaojue stared at her, his hand also trembling slightly. He maintained the posture of wanting to pull her toward him, yet he was also deeply afraid.
