Dejected, Qiao Lian was walking alone along the streets.
She did not know where to go, so she found a random garden and sat on a long bench.
She did not seem to fit in with the hustle and bustle of her surroundings.
The garden was very lively and crowded with people.
Everyone had different expressions on their faces. Someone, whose life seemed to have not gone as planned, walked past her while sobbing.
Qiao Lian wanted to cry too.
However, since eight years ago, she had already understood that crying was useless.
She felt extremely suffocated, as though her heart was stuffed with cotton to the brim.
The mistake at work was clearly not her fault. She could have even given evidence for it. Why did she have to bear the consequences?
The more she thought about it, the more wronged she felt. She could not suppress that sense of defeat, even after taking in a deep breath.
