When Shasha saw Wang Chuqin, he was sitting alone on a folding lawn chair, gazing blankly out at the lake.
It was March. Rows of weeping willows lined the artificial lake, their branches already sprouting fresh new growth. A gentle breeze swept past, and the light green willows swaying with tiny buds rippled the water's surface, sending concentric circles radiating outward.
Shasha glanced up at the overcast sky, thinking to herself that it would be so much prettier if the sun were out.
Chapter 310