Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

Hua Jin’s smile and eyes possessed a charm and allure unique to him.

The woman rarely ever saw him reveal a genuine smile.

He would put on a modest smile which made him look like a humble person before the camera. Still, there were times when contempt and weariness would flash across his eyes as soon as the camera panned away, making that smile appear especially ironic.

Like a demon king, his smile would change again to become insufferably arrogant when he was with the production crew. He would behave like a rebellious kid, deliberately antagonizing and spewing expletives at everyone, be they the director, the actors, or even the extras. He would only stop when the other party got upset with him, and that was when a smug expression would surface on his visage.

However, that smugness only lasted for a split second before it was replaced by indescribable sadness and loneliness.

That sort of loneliness was as good as an ostracized child attempting to get others’ attention, care, and acceptance for themselves—even if it was all fake—in the worst way possible.

Right now, however, when Yun Shishi turned to look at the actor, she saw him gazing into the night sky with eyes so bright and clear that they seemed to be filled with stars.

This was his true self, it seemed.

Innocent, guileless, and simple like a child who was ignorant of the ugly side of the world. No longer was he wearing those sharp pricks; in fact, he seemed so pure that he could not possibly be sullied.

He said, ‘How I wish that I were born as your child, too.’

Even though it seemed like a normal, passing remark, she could hear hints of helplessness and yearning in his voice, which left her feeling immense heartache for him.

She was no Samaritan, and she absolutely abhorred those hypocritical platitudes. However, her concern and heartache for Hua Jin instantly seeped out and flooded her upon seeing that forlorn smile of his.

She could not help tightening her hands around his, wishing to transmit the slightest bit of warmth, no matter how miniscule it may be, to him on this cold night.

The woman looked up at the firework-filled sky—the work of those people who failed to hold back their eager excitement and released the fireworks before it was midnight—and was involuntarily reminded of her younger self, where she spent her first Lunar New Year with the Yun family.

She could still remember that her adoptive father had specially bought plenty of fireworks that year and that they cost a bomb, with some easily ranging from a few hundred yuan while the bigger and prettier ones were priced at around several thousand yuan. The average family could not bear to splurge on them, so only families that were quite well off would buy them for the special occasion.

Her adoptive family was still loaded then with her father’s business at its peak, so he could easily afford to buy the prettiest sorts of fireworks available on the market.

Unlike these days, streets were all filled with a festive mood on Lunar New Year’s Eve a decade ago.

Releasing fireworks was one of the most anticipated festive activities for the new year.

Many children, the young Yun Na included, yearned to see the brilliant, colorful displays of fireworks up in the sky.

She pestered her father to release the fireworks the night before Lunar New Year, but the man was adamant on doing it the following night.

Thus, that very night, she sneaked out a set of fireworks, dragged her sister out of the house, and insisted on having her release them.

When the latter refused, for she dared not do so, the former threatened, ‘If you don’t release the fireworks, I’ll get daddy to kick you out of the house tomorrow! What use do you have if you don’t even dare to light fireworks?!’