After seeing off Mi Cai, I returned to my room, finished the remaining red wine, and lit a cigarette, lying heavily on the sofa. My mind kept replaying the scene where I asked Mi Cai if we were friends. I was somewhat surprised at why I asked such a question, and what was the meaning behind it?

I couldn't figure it out for a long time. Perhaps it's like the saying, "A dying man's words are good." Even though I didn't care how Mi Cai saw me before, when it was time to leave, I wanted to leave a good impression on her. Even if we weren't friends, I didn't want her to associate me with words like vulgar, shameless, and despicable.

After freshening up, I gradually sobered up from the alcohol and started packing my luggage while I was still clear-headed.

In my luggage, there was still the guitar that Jian Wei gave me. I found a clean cloth and wiped it over and over again, wiping out the pain of love and the wounds of memory. I felt a bit sad.

How wonderful it would be if a love could ignore material things and last forever. Then, perhaps Jian Wei and I would already be married. I'm not afraid of marriage at all because I love Jian Wei. Being with the woman I truly love would never be boring, no matter how long it lasts.@@novelbin@@

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