Gu Xiaoer pushed open the door, and a thick sense of nostalgia swept over her, mixed with a hint of familiarity.
"This is..."
The girl's eyes instantly reddened, tears welling up uncontrollably.
She walked into the room with complex emotions; it was just an ordinary bedroom, only larger than most, nothing special, yet it held the most precious scent.
This familiar style of decoration, this familiar fragrance, if not her mother's room, whose could it be?
She finally understood from whom she inherited the habit of preserving an entire room for her mother.
It was from the man before her, her father. Just like him, she liked to remember important people in this way.
Gu Xiaoer bit her lip, silently taking in the atmosphere of the moment.
Qin Xun, like her, felt as if the woman he loved was still by his side every time he entered this room. He walked over to the desk gently, his expression filled with melancholy, as if immersed in tender memories.
