"You don't need to blame yourself too much. Life and death are fate; it's all fate." Mrs. Xing wiped the tears from her cheeks. "He liked you for so many years, loved you for so many years, he considered you more important than life itself. It was all his voluntary choice, no one else can be blamed. My son was a foolish child. Back then… if it weren't for… if it weren't for… it's all in the past now. What's the point of talking about it again."
Mrs. Xing paused and took a few heavy sketchbooks from Mr. Xing's hands, handing them over to Lin Yixun, "We found these in Xiao Yi's room. I think Xiao Yi would want us to give these to you."
Lin Yixun hesitated for a moment but eventually extended her hands to take the sketchbooks.
On the way back to the hospital, she opened a sketchbook and found that it was filled with her portraits. She took out the other sketchbooks, and the same; every page, every book was filled with her images.
