Inside the bag, the top layer was all food. Apart from salted duck eggs and home-made salted vegetables, He Nuo believed the whole milk powder and canned anchovies all came from Shi Yan. The lower layer was an unopened English dictionary, a few writing paper pads, a 16k¹ exquisite notebook, envelopes with the name of the unit printed on it and 50 stamps. He Nuo held onto the dictionary, feeling bitter-sweet. Shi Yan, the most important friend in my life, but we can no longer love each other anymore. It’s a road where both sides suffer. Do you know how much willpower I had to exert to prevent myself from wavering, trapping the both of us in what a hopeless situation?

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