Three years, hadn't she longed to turn back?
But the moment she opened her eyes, it was his face, cold and indifferent, full of scorn—how could she turn back?
Now, he had indulged his subordinates in killing her uncle... the only brother her father had.
There was no possibility anymore.
"This road back, you've blocked with your own hands." Gusts of wind blew over her wrist, messing up the hair on her forehead. Yan Wanqing looked at the man before her, the father of her child, as the last bit of light in her eyes extinguished completely.
Hearing her words, Xiao Pingfeng felt his world plunge into deafening silence.
Back then, she had lain in his arms, covered in blood, saying goodbye, but now she stood before him, alive—and yet, still saying goodbye.
His lips thinned.
"We always had a sea of blood between us, you could cross it before, why can't you now?"
He really wanted to ask that.
But seeing her broken appearance, he suddenly couldn't bring himself to ask.
