In the westerly breeze of the ancient road, wind chimes and paper cranes hang in front of a row of hollow and carved windows. Zhang Xuning took a piece of sticky note paper, wrote down his wishes seriously, folded the sticky note paper into a small paper crane and hung it.

Raising her wine glass, facing the paper crane, facing the past, she toasted three times in a row.

Before she woke up, she took out her mobile phone and sent a voice message to Shen Lingfei and asked her to pick it up.

Someone sang a love song before......

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