He walked to the balcony. The rain at that moment seemed to have lightened, and the air held a faint earthy musk which he did not like very much.
He leaned against the wall and smoked stick after stick of cigarettes, and he was certain that if he continued to smoke, he would get tobacco poisoning.
"Xia Ruoxin, tell me, are you dead yet?"
He laughed suddenly. Once again, the name made his heart ache.
He thought he had long forgotten her, but he realized that he was wrong. He didn't forget. He never did. He could clearly remember her face, her undying love, and her defeated heart.
His lips curled into a sneer, and he flung away the cigarette butt in his hand. "Xia Ruoxin, I don't know if you've heard, but I'm married again. I even made her wedding night a million—no, a billion—times better than yours. Are you jealous? Are you crying?"
However, not a single person knew where she was and what she was doing now.
