"You are my husband, what's wrong with you going on my behalf?" Wen Jiao said: "Zhaoli, I want you to go for me."
Shen Zhaoli looked at Wen Jiao for a long, long time without uttering a word.
That night, when Shen Zhaoli held Wen Jiao as they fell asleep, he couldn't help but ask: "Jiaojiao, don't you want to see him at all?"
Wen Jiao said: "I don't."
"Why?"
"Because it's pointless," Wen Jiao said: "He's already part of the past."
Shen Zhaoli had thought of many responses, considered what Wen Jiao would say to him upon learning about this, but he never imagined that she would have him go in her place.
"Jiaojiao, don't you have anything you want to say to him?" Shen Zhaoli's voice was hoarse as he raised his hand and gently stroked Wen Jiao's hair with an overly gentle gesture: "If you have something to say, you can go see him."
"Shen Zhaoli, I really don't," Wen Jiao said: "It's very good now, I want to spend a peaceful life with you, I already feel very content."
