While she waited, Baili Mu arrived.
He wore khaki casual pants and a cream-colored long trench coat, the lighting from above casting a handsome silhouette.
"Lanlan," he called her name, full of warmth but also replete with loss. He hadn't been there when she was in danger.
Ou Lan suddenly turned, and upon seeing him, truly felt warmth. He had walked from a dream into her reality, her light from childhood to adulthood, always her beacon.
"Mu, why have you come?"
Baili Mu sat down next to her and noticed her jacket was covered in blood. He took off his coat and offered it to her, "Your coat is dirty, take it off and wear mine for now."
Ou Lan, however, shook her head, "It's alright, this is Zhan Moxiao's blood."
In just one sentence, it was clear the place Zhan Moxiao held in her heart, for his blood, she'd rather wear it on herself.
Baili Mu paused momentarily, the feeling of loss hidden in the depths of his eyes. He put his trench coat back on, "How is he doing?"
