Wen Yi's face remained calm, devoid of any undulations.
Abel approached from behind her, pulled one of the chairs in the ward over, and placed it next to Wen Yi.
She just sat down, casually placing her bag on her lap.
Even when sitting casually, her back was straight, reflecting the elegance and grace that had become habitual.
Li Qianrui looked at her, tears still streaming down uncontrollably, as she sobbed with her face covered and said intermittently, "I'm sorry, I really didn't know..."
Wen Yi, neither warm nor fiery, interrupted her, "Don't cry. If you really want to cry, just cry it out at once. I'll wait. The last thing I like is someone weeping while speaking the truth. It's exhausting to listen to."
The sobbing of Li Qianrui stopped abruptly.
It was the kind that had been forcefully suppressed, and one could still hear the sounds of her struggling to breathe.
