He had lived in a similar building when he was a child, a standardized dormitory built by a state-owned enterprise, with similar height and design.
At that time, he used to lean on the second floor of such a building, secretly watching Jiang Qingkui pass by every day.
She wore her ponytail high, swung her long legs, kept an aloof expression, and carried a stack of books. Every time she passed by, Zhou Wang always felt an invisible breeze brush across his face...
"Beep!"
Zhou Wang was reminiscing about his childhood when suddenly a car horn sounded behind him.
Zhou Wang frowned and turned his head.
The old neighborhood didn't have delineated car lanes and pedestrian paths. Technically speaking, the spot where Zhou Wang stood was just open space in front of the building, and whether cars should drive there was even debatable. But that wasn't the point. The point was—
