Shang Yu's guilt was as heavy as his current caution.
He dared not touch, nor look.
Those marks, in his view, were all his 'evidence of sin'.
At this moment, Li Qiao, not having received an answer from Shang Yu, couldn't help but turn her head to look at the man behind her.
His eyes were interwoven with dimness, his handsome face shadowed with a defeated, quiet grey—all expressions that should not have been there were now simultaneously present.
Li Qiao licked her dry lips and tugged at his hand, pulling with not much strength towards the bed, "Stay with me for a while."
Her tone could be said to be very firm.
Shang Yu did not refuse; he almost obediently lay down on his side, but his dark eyes locked tightly on Li Qiao.
Aren't you afraid I'll hurt you again?
These words lingered on his lips, he wanted to ask them time and again, but it was as though they lacked heat and he could not bring himself to speak them outright.
Until—
