At this very moment!
There was no need for more words!
At such a time as this.
It all came together naturally, water and fire blending as one.
In this very hall, the candlelight faded away, and all was left unsaid.
The next morning!
The sky had just begun to lighten!
Zhao Feng opened his eyes, his head still a bit dizzy and heavy.
As he sobered up somewhat, Zhao Feng turned his head to look, but there was already no one by his side—the spot was empty, and at the edge, a trace of red remained. What that meant was self-evident.
Zhao Feng sat up with a start, a hint of reluctance on his face. "She really left?"
Last night.
Wang Yan had given herself wholly to him.
If Zhao Feng had not been moved, of course it would have been a lie.
Catching something in his peripheral vision,
Zhao Feng's gaze swept the room and he saw a piece of silk cloth left on the table.
Zhao Feng got up immediately and walked over to it.
He picked it up and saw it was a letter left by Wang Yan.
