The afternoon sunlight was bright and warm, streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and illuminating half of the three-story villa.
Ling Momo sat in front of the piano, playing attentively note by note.
Li Qingshen sat on the sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out in a slight trance.
The windows of the villa were very bright, and Qingshen's gaze was fixed on a spot where a faint and mist-like reflection of Momo appeared.
Outside, the mountains were green, the waters clear, and the sky blue with white clouds—the scenery was so beautiful, yet it couldn't compare to her faint reflection on the glass.
Li Qingshen truly wished that time could stop at that moment; he was willing to keep looking like this without ever growing tired.
As Qingshen watched, he couldn't help but think back to his childhood, the first time at his grandmother's and great-grandfather's wedding.
Before he was four, he had only his mother.
