"Mm." Su Nian lowered her head and softly responded.
Call it avoidance or guilt, she didn't dare to look into Zheng Haoyu's eyes.
"Don't be sad." A rough thumb rubbed Su Nian's soft and smooth little hand, as if comforting, as if bewitching, the low voice as melodious as a cello landed on Su Nian's heart.
Su Nian bit her lower lip, unsure of what to say. Sad? Maybe.
After a while, she lifted her head, her bright eyes meeting Zheng Haoyu's fiery gaze, "Thank you."
At that moment, she clearly felt Zheng Haoyu's hand holding hers stiffen, his fiery gaze gradually becoming complicated, carrying heartache and disappointment, making her even more distressed, his gaze locked on her unwaveringly, and Zheng Haoyu gradually tightened his grip, "Yixin is also my son. No matter how you evade it, my blood runs in his veins too. Saving him is only right."
