She pointed to a photo of a little girl crying on a rockery.
"This one is from the first time I tried to cook. I made a huge mess of the kitchen, and my mom took a picture, said she needed to preserve the evidence."
The little girl in the photo had flour all over her face, and the contents of the pot were pitch-black.
"This is when I got into a fight with my brother. He made me cry, and my mom made us make up. She insisted on taking a picture together. See? We both still have tears on our faces."
Photo by photo, it was her life story.
Lu Fan looked through them one by one, his heart feeling both sore and soft.
He hadn't been there for any of these moments he should have been a part of.
But at least now, he could see them.
"Silu," he said suddenly. "Show me your future photos, too."
Jiang Silu looked at him, and after a moment, she gave a gentle nod.
"Okay," she said with a smile. "I'll send them to you after I take them."
