"Talk."
"Let's have an open and honest conversation." Yan Wanqing poured the leftover tea from last night's teapot into her cup and drank it all in one gulp.
She hadn't said much before she felt her throat becoming dry and parched.
After finishing her tea, she caressed the edge of the cup, feeling as if an invisible hand had clenched her heart tightly in its fist.
"... Speak, will you?" The atmosphere turned oppressive, and she urged him with her head bowed.
The corners of her eyes grew warm, and tears threatened to fall.
Xiao Pingfeng sighed softly and moved his chair over. He reached out his large hand to encircle her shoulders, holding her tightly in his embrace.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't be by your side during the most painful years of your life." His voice was like moonlight cascading down a waterfall, gentle and clear.
At his words, Yan Wanqing could no longer hold back and began to sob softly against his waist.
No one knew how she had endured it all.
