Qin Mu woke up, it was already the next morning.
An Lin insisted on staying by his side, she fell asleep leaning on his hospital bed in the middle of the night.
When Qin Mu opened his eyes, he saw An Lin with her black hair leaning on the edge of the bed. His dark eyes were momentarily bewildered; a moment later, a gentle light gathered at the bottom of his eyes.
His thin lips moved slightly, the thought of waking An Lin faded away.
Recalling the moment when Mrs. Yao fired the gun, and the scene of the little woman in front of him trying to shield him from the bullet, complex emotions surged within Qin Mu's heart, indescribable and inexplicable.
There was gratitude, distress, deep love, and guilt for the hurt he had caused her before.
Even though so much time had passed since then, as long as he thinks back to how he misunderstood An Lin, inflicting such deep harm on her, yet she forgave him,
Qin Mu felt that he had been such a scoundrel.
