He and Qin Manyi weren't close.
It was just as he had told Doctor Xi: their relationship as siblings wasn't good, but it wasn't bad either.
The two had never had a heart-to-heart-or rather, that was entirely down to Qin Manjiang.
Even with Li Xijiu, the person closest to him, he had never opened up.
It wasn't some unspoken understanding, either. Qin Manjiang simply didn't know what was going on inside his own heart.
It sounded laughable, but ever since he was little, everyone from his teachers and classmates to the family and friends around him had asked what he wanted to do and what kind of person he wanted to become.
But when Qin Manjiang searched his own heart, he arrived at an absurd conclusion-
He had no dreams.
Everyone in this world seemed to have at least something they wanted to do, someone they liked.
Whether near or far, big or small, even rushing home to catch the cartoon that aired at six sharp was a tiny source of joy.
But that joy didn't exist for Qin Manjiang.
Before he made friends with the relentlessly persistent Li Xijiu, he had always been a "nonconformist."
In the past, he would always lie on the grass at dusk after school, gazing up at the sky. His gloomy, slightly mysterious air easily made him the focus of the girls' conversations.
They speculated that he was someone with a story, that he must love dusk and the evening breeze.
But no one knew he was simply zoning out.
Lying on the grass, he wasn't admiring the twilight or the setting sun, nor was he having any unique insights.
He was simply lying there, with green grass beneath him and a sky awash with sunset colors overhead.
Not for any particular reason-just like