The diary was very long. It recorded her grandmother's journey growing up as an innocent maiden. That indescribable feeling made Connie's emotions float along with it too.
Grandma and Master's connections and separations didn't resemble a pair of lovers. It looked more like a competition between a wanderer and his follower.
They had never told each other their feelings. Even their conversations were limited.
Every conversation was recorded in the diary in detail, even his mannerisms and tone of voice, as if she was trying to remember his voice and looks.
Her grandmother was lowly and humble.
But she was doing all this happily and blissfully, as if she was chasing after her faith.
Connie had heard her grandmother talk about the Hairless Monk when she was young, and more than once at that.
It was just that she had no idea in the stories that grandma told her, even if she didn't go through it herself, she was also a close observer.