Jiang Qinghan was sitting in a bookstore-styled café. The entire café was well maintained and filled with bookshelves and all sorts of books. Although many of the bookshelves’ oil paintings have started to fall and most of the books were beginning to turn yellow, it was well-maintained. Some of the severely damaged books were repaired, and anyone could tell that the owner of this café was a book lover.

The tables all had a pot of devil’s ivy. Even despite the lack of any fragrance, there was a refreshing scent that permeated in the air.

Sitting before Jiang Qinghan was a handsome man that looked to be in his mid-thirties. He had a pair of thick brows and gave off a masculine aura.

“Qinghan, do you still remember? We often gathered here in the past.” The man spoke before he sighed, “It’s a pity that Yan Sun has already passed away for so many years.”

Jiang Qinghan’s eyes flickered with tears, it’s rare for her to show such a weak side of her. But before this man, she was like any other ordinary woman. She...