"Sorry, something like this won't happen again."
Liu Runxi's gaze was clear and resolute—unflinching, fearless. A simple phrase, yet profound as a promise worth more than gold.
"This was never your fault, why apologize for it."
Those high and mighty people, when have they ever truly cared about the lives of ordinary folk? All they care about is the power in their hands.
But the young man before her—Shen You'an saw compassion, empathy, and a gentle tolerance in his eyes.
"Liu Runxi."
Liu Runxi froze for a moment; it was the first time he heard her call his name.
From where he sat, he could only see the girl's slightly lowered lashes, like a small fan with uneven spacing, softly fanning something deep inside him.
Liu Runxi tightened his grip on the flimsy plastic cup, his heart wrapped in an inexplicable emotion, almost ready to burst forth.
"I hope you always stay true to your original self."
Liu Runxi curved his lips into a slow smile, his gaze soft and fluid like water.
