An Liyang lay on the ground, and when he woke up again, the New Year's bell had already rung. The city had once again plunged into silence, as if the only sound left was his faint breathing.
He then turned over, extended his trembling hand, and gently placed it over his heart, a slight cold smirk appearing on his lips.
"An Liyang, you were always the extra one, you should have died long ago, what's the point of you still being alive."
If such a desolate scene were seen by others, they would surely not believe their eyes.
This was nowhere near the once high-spirited young master of the An Family, but just a desolate and helpless man.
As he lay on the ground, suddenly at the corner of his eyes, glistening tears appeared.
It's said that a real man doesn't easily cry, only because he's not yet hit a truly sorrowful point.
