In retrospect, Ji Rui had known Le Tong for more than two years. He had seen her with red eyes, but had never truly witnessed her crying so freely.
It's often said that women are made of water. Ji Rui used to think Le Tong was an exception, but now, looking at his shirt damp from chest to abdomen, he wondered if she was wiping away six or seven years' worth of tears on it.
The hand clutching his shirt tightened, her sobs were subdued and intermittent, and her slender body trembled slightly in his embrace.
Ji Rui lowered his gaze to her jet-black hair, gently patting her back, his heart tightening uncontrollably.
Le Tong nestled in Ji Rui's arms, sobbing softly, her heart filled with various complex emotions—guilt towards Baobao, resentment from the cold looks and injustices suffered due to her mother's illness over the years, the unfairness and oppression encountered when first entering society, and even the grievances and unwillingness from Ji Rui's misunderstandings...
