"Huang Qian, why are you looking at me like that? Don't you remember me?"
As she spoke, the woman acted familiarly, rushing over and wrapping herself around Qin Yiren's other arm, charmingly chiding, "I'm Yaoyao, Huang Yao, we share the same last name, you know. Who's to say we weren't sisters five hundred years ago?"
Qin Yiren looked at her noncommittally, her clear, bright eyes holding a hint of curiosity, Qingmei's face devoid of emotion.
Even if her memory had some issues, without any issues, she could probably still remember this Huang Yao.
Because back in school, the small group that led the charge in looking down on her, Huang Yao's caustic remarks were unforgettable, to be precise, she belonged to the type of person she never wanted to meet again.
