It was as if a layer of gauze veiled his eyes; he saw "him" standing quietly to one side, secretly watching someone. It was very blurry, and his heart felt sour and aching, yet sometimes there was a kind of unnameable joy and sweetness.
This kind of complicated feeling was something Fu Changrong had never experienced in his brief life.
Though he couldn't see the person clearly, he knew that "him" was the original owner, and that even more indistinct figure was called Zhao Hanzhang, that is, the original owner of Zhao Hezhen's body.
The flashes of memory were very short, so short that he hadn't managed to remember the few scenes that passed, but the dull ache and the tenderness in his chest remained.
And he had also learned one thing.
After Zhao Hanzhang was blinded in an accident in her youth, because modern medicine was still insufficient to treat her eyes, Fu Tinghan had always wanted to push forward related medical advances.
