"Huh? This looks familiar?" Luo Qianqian looked at the pendant with a strange expression, her mind somewhat muddled with vague impressions.
It was not from this lifetime, but from the last, in the few rare family photos, this pendant was always on An Zilan's neck.
"This is..." Old Master Luo was also startled, his eyes filled with lonely nostalgia and a touch of sadness, as if covered by a thin mist.
"Qianqian." Yue Tingyu called Luo Qianqian over. Luo Qianqian obediently walked up to her, "This belonged to your dad when he was little, like yours, made from a single piece of jade."
Watching the on-and-off red string on Luo Qianqian's neck, a trace of nostalgia crossed her eyes, "Qianqian, thank your mom for me." It was good to have something to remember her son by.
