Hualin Cemetery.
The sky was starting to dim.
Leaning on a crutch, Shen Lang slowly made her way over to Shen Zhi.
His back was to her. He was down on one knee, his long legs slender yet straight and strong. His raven-black lashes were lowered as he carefully arranged the scattered flowers in front of the headstone.
'…He's actually quite serious about this.'
A languid, velvety voice suddenly reached his ears.
He paused, stopping what he was doing. He stood up and looked at her. "And you are?"
The girl with the crutch was still wearing her school uniform jacket, which she hadn't had time to change out of. It was draped lazily over her shoulders, and her exquisite, dazzling face might as well have been stamped with the arrogant words: 'I'm a punk.'
A flicker of surprise crossed his cool, clear eyes.
"From No. 1 High?"
"Mhm," Shen Lang said, limping toward him. She managed a reasonably sweet and delicate smile. "...What a coincidence."
