"If it hadn't been for meeting you, Rong'er, I suppose I would either be preparing to take my own life tomorrow, or become a numb caged sparrow—two dead-end paths. Where would I find the fortune of having this third path, stretching out as wide as the sea and sky?"
As the little girl spoke, she lifted Zhao Rong's left hand, pinched the sleeve from which he had pulled out the silver token, and squinted inside it as though hoping to find another secret hidden by this big lug.
Zhao Rong let her rummage through his sleeve, turning his head to quietly gaze at the distant moon and the straight, mighty river.
In the night breeze, his already dried black hair fluttered elegantly, to which little Qian'er reached out to grab again.
