Mo Xiuchen's lips curved into a gentle smile as he stared quietly at Wen Ran. Her fingers unwittingly brushed against his. It was a touch unlike the cool, hard metal of a ring, a touch that was soft and warm, seeping into his skin, penetrating his heart, a feel that surprisingly reminded him of the little girl's touch from the past.
Back then, it was too dark for him to clearly see her face, he only saw a mole on her chin and heard her voice, sweet and soft as marshmallow, which sounded incredibly pleasant, even in those circumstances.
She cried out 'run', and he promised to 'come back for her'. Now, decades later, he may have found her, but he couldn't help but feel that the person he's found, wasn't the same little girl from his past.
Contrarily, he felt that Wen Ran resembled the little girl who once saved him more than Cheng Jia did – not in looks but in feeling.
"It's on!"