Lin Ziya finally asked the question she was dying to ask.
She was just like all other women who were easily coaxed even though she knew that he might not be telling the truth. She just wanted him to say the words that would comfort her.
She had assumed that she would soon receive a response to her question but she was wrong.
Her husband didn't respond. Instead, he took out a thermos flask and a milk bottle and started to mix the milk formula for their son.
Chen Jiahang's expression was inscrutable and there was no sign of the sorrow that had clouded his face earlier.
He handed the milk bottle to his son who had climbed up to the sofa, walked toward the windows, drew the curtains, and stared out at the Namu River that was located beyond the blocks of high-rise towers.
He hadn't expected to see her here and according to his calculations, they hadn't met in five years.
