"So what? Yi Zhuo, you were certain that I would be afraid, that I would give up on you because of these things, and become the one to betray our promise first, right?"
Chang Xuyu's eyes were rimmed with red, her chest heaving; she was clearly angry.
Some of her memories were still blurry, but this part of her dream was probably too important to her; even being ill, she didn't dare to forget it completely.
Now she was terminally ill, not knowing which day she might die. Yet even so, she had never thought of giving up on herself, because there were still things left undone—she had to leave something for Yanyan... So, Chang Xuyu considered herself someone with at least a bit of perseverance, not one to give up easily.
The man stood silently by the window, his profile buried in deep shadows under the faint light, as if fallen into endless desolation.
Preview