"No need, I'll help her change clothes," Qin Jian said.
His movements were gentle, as if he was afraid of hurting her. That gaze, those actions, clearly showed an immense cherishing of her.
If that was the case, why did he marry Song Yueqin in the first place?
This is unscientific!
An Hao watched all this happen with tears streaming down her face.
Once the clothes were changed, he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
The body was taken to the crematorium, and Qin Jian waited outside.
He, who seldom smoked, continuously lit one cigarette after another, throwing a pile of butts on the ground.
Every now and then, he would curl a fist to his lips to cough, a sight that caused An Hao's heart to ache as if it were being sliced by a knife.
When the ashes were ready, Qin Jian took them away and brought them to the cemetery.
