"Miss, Miss."
Wu Ge'er's voice pulled Meng Qianqian out of her nightmare.
Meng Qianqian's forehead was densely beaded with sweat, and her back was damp with cold perspiration.
Her chest rose and fell slightly, and the pain and hatred lingering in her mind stabbed at her heart like needles.
"Miss, are you alright?"
Wu Ge'er asked softly.
"I'm fine."
Meng Qianqian suppressed her emotions and regained her usual composure. "What is it?"
Wu Ge'er said, "I remember when you first entered the capital, you mentioned wanting to see 'Da Tie Hua' (iron flower performance). It's been five years. Today's a rare chance—should we go take a look?"
"Da Tie Hua..."
Meng Qianqian murmured blankly. A moment later, she said calmly, "You remembered. Let's go take a look."
"Alright!"
Wu Ge'er responded enthusiastically.
