Gazing at the scenery from the mountainside—the withered wild grass of winter, verdant pines and cypresses, and some strange red plants hidden in the lofty mountains—it felt as if she was in a painting, standing serenely.
She had never felt this relaxed and at ease before.
Huang Xiaojue had been intently watching her. In truth, it was his first time seeing her drop all her guard like this, completely free of cares or worries. Her long eyelashes would occasionally move, making her look like a sleeping child.
Over the two years they had been apart, he had asked himself numerous times: Could I really not live without her? Why did it have to be her? Weren't there many, many other women out there who were better than her?
