Sun Yangxin looked at Su Xiaoling's back and felt dejected.
His surname was not Yan, but Zhao. They looked so similar, but he had just mistaken her for someone else.
Her ancestral home was Furongzhou, thousands of miles away from the capital. His Mianmian couldn't have gone so far.
Sun Yangxin sighed and turned to leave.
He did not notice that Su Xiaoling had turned around to see if he had really left after walking far away.
Seeing that this strange man had really left, Su Xiaoling heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that he had really made a mistake.
After confirming it, Su Xiaoling returned home in peace.
—-
When Sun Yangxin returned to the residence, he hurriedly went to the study and found the painting that he had kept at the bottom of the box. He carefully unfolded it.
In the painting, there was a young girl. The young girl was slender and elegant. She sat upright gently and smiled at him.