Chapter 71
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What was love?
Was it the soft flutter people described—the gentle rush of butterflies in one's stomach whenever that particular person drew near? Or was it something deeper, something quieter and far more consuming—the instinct to protect them, to care for them, to give and give without ever asking for anything in return?
Was love the urge to do everything in your power just to see them smile?
Shen Yu sat in silence, his gaze fixed on the television screen where a brightly colored cartoon played. The exaggerated laughter and cheerful voices filled the room, but none of it reached him. His thoughts lingered elsewhere, heavy and unrelenting, as though caught in a loop he couldn't escape.
Slowly, he turned his head.
