Mo Yixuan put down the things in his hand and pursed his lips, his expression dark. His eyes were bloodshot, as though he had not slept for some time and his eyes were rimmed with dark circles.
"Yixuan," the man said firmly when he saw that Yixuan had not responded. "If you never loved her in the first place, why did you marry her? You knew that she was a pitiful girl who had lost her parents and even her grandparents. By leaving her, you have left her without any relatives."
Yang Mingyu clenched his fists, and felt sympathetic toward his junior female schoolmate. He thought that if only that woman had not been so silly and given her love so humbly, she would not have married Yixuan and ended up in such a manner. She could have found someone who loved her.
Mo Yixuan lifted his head and something rippled across his cold eyes. That man's words had pierced his heart like a thorn.
