Zhao Siyan elegantly held her coffee cup, watching the once close friend she hadn't seen for ages, her face always adorned with a polite yet distant smile.
Meng Yue used to understand her so well, so how could she not see the obvious gap between Zhao Siyan and herself at this moment?
A sour feeling welled up in Meng Yue's chest.
For all these years, she had lived in a state of guilt.
She tried to numb herself by doing charity and praying to Buddha, but she also knew that some people, once dead, are just gone.
No one has the power to bring back to life those who have passed away.
"These years..." Meng Yue tried to find a topic of conversation, looking at this once intimate confidante, "How have you been? You really have become more and more beautiful."
Zhao Siyan's lips curled into a light laugh, "Alright, just getting by, but you, you seem to have been having a tough time lately?"
Meng Yue grew more embarrassed.
