Jiang Nanshu hung up the phone.
Nearly two months had passed.
She actually felt like she had lived beyond the twenty-three years she spent in her original world.
So, she had been in this world for nearly two months now.
There were still four months left until the deadline she had set for herself.
She looked at the friends around her, the relatives who had chosen her, and her lover, whose face was cold and seemed to be brooding.
She once thought that life could only offer endless pain and, even with a safe haven, she felt like a thief stealing happiness, always afraid of being abandoned without hesitation.
Just like Zhou Yanxu.
He had saved her but also brought her endless suffering.
However, the cuts in her heart seemed to be healing and weren't as gloomy as before.
Jiang Nanshu was reminded of the little nurse who cried buckets reading a book, the week before she escaped from the psychiatric hospital.
The weather was still nice.
