Jiang Xia was truly at a loss when it came to his grandfather.
Grandpa Jiang Xia still didn't say anything, just turned around, went back into the house, and went to bed.
In the kitchen, Jiang Xia sat on a small stool, staring blankly at the candle flame inside a glass bottle.
It wasn't that he hadn't thought about his recent actions; he just wasn't sure how firm his resolve was.
Regardless, he just wanted to be a little nicer to An Ning—and then even nicer.
As for how long this kindness could last, he didn't know either.
Jiang Xia himself didn't really believe in love.
His parents had never been a shining example of love.
Their love was filled with ugliness, selfishness, and retaliation.
Jiang Xia didn't want that kind of love, and he feared that, deep down, he was just like Jiang Dongcheng.
But if the other person was An Ning, he didn't want to hurt her in the slightest.
'Or get beaten up.'
