Mo Beichen followed slowly behind her, looking at her hands hanging by her sides. He clenched his fist, remembering the light kiss she had placed at the corner of his mouth that morning. He couldn't help but want to hold her hand.
Perhaps to alleviate the awkwardness from earlier, as Mo Beichen's hand reached halfway, Gu Qian suddenly turned back and smiled at him, "Big brother, actually, my dream later on was to become a great painter, like Van Gogh, but unfortunately, I'm not talented enough."
When she was young, she loved drawing very much. When she was starving and freezing in the orphanage, she wished she were Ma Liang with the magic brush, so she could draw herself a bun and a warm blanket.
But the buns and blankets she drew would never become real, only making her feel even sadder.
