After recounting the earlier incident to Li Yanan, Lin Zhenxin looked down at the flower, feeling a bit disoriented.
"Heather."
Suddenly, Li Yanan's voice reached her ears.
"What?" She had been a little distracted earlier and didn't catch it.
"I said, the flower in your hand is Heather."
After Li Yanan repeated himself, Lin Zhenxin finally realized that the flower she was holding was Heather.
"It's rare for someone to use this flower to visit the deceased."
Li Yanan reached out and tucked a strand of Lin Zhenxin's hair behind her ear, revealing her clean little face.
"Why?" Lin Zhenxin asked in confusion.
"The flower's symbolism is not good," Li Yanan replied.
Lin Zhenxin naturally knew that everything had two sides. There were flowers with good symbolism and those with bad symbolism.
"What is the symbolism of Heather?"
Asked this way by Li Yanan, she suddenly became curious.
