Standing under the dilapidated low eaves, behind him was the setting sun, its twilight casting across his surroundings. Jiang Zhihao felt as if he had just woken from a dream.,Jiang Zhihao was certain it wasn't a dream, because dreams wouldn't let him remember so clearly. He could recall every single moment that had happened.,As he listened, Jiang Zhihao's tears flowed even faster.。