Leng Youchen felt like his throat was stuffed with cotton, making it hard to breathe. Wei Anning's uneasy voice came from the other end, "Leng Youchen, I didn't mean anything else, I..."
"I'm sorry, madam!" The words "madam" had been brewing on his tongue since he met her again, almost slipping out several times. At this moment, he could no longer hold back and blurted them out.
Wei Anning's heart fluttered, the long-lost words slipped from his tongue, filled with tenderness and apology, striking her heart directly. She shook her head, "Leng Youchen, I've never blamed you. If I ever did, it would only be for leaving me alone in this lonely world, with nothing to rely on."
Leng Youchen leaned against the wall, his large hand instinctively clutching the phone. He hated her so much, yet she had the strength to give birth to their child and raise him. What right did he have to talk about hate?
