Fu Lun left behind words shackled by morality and ethics, turned and pushed the door open to walk out of the apartment, leaving Yan Luoxi alone standing in the cold, air-filled first-floor elevator lobby, her heart sinking instantly to the bottom.
Yan Luoxi closed her eyes. She had always ignored the fact that Li Yeqi had executed Fu Xuan and never blamed it on Li Yeqi, but deep down she still felt guilty.
Fu Xuan wasn't a qualified mother, but she gave her life, gave her eight years of maternal love, no matter which position she stood on, she couldn't be with the person who personally killed her.
Yet for the sake of love, she cast those voices out of her mind, fully immersing herself in the sweetness of being in a relationship with Li Yeqi. But in the middle of the night, dreaming of Fu Xuan's wide-eyed tragic death, her heart would always be brutally torn and pulled by guilt.
