Shu Yimo regarded the An Zijie before him, silently observing for a moment before suddenly realizing that, without knowing when, many strands of silver had woven themselves amidst his customarily jet-black hair...
The vaguely handsome face showed signs of fatigue that couldn't be concealed—
Time, after all, had not spared him... it too had left its marks.
"Now that you've safely overcome this ordeal, you should do well. If... you feel guilty, then please, let me live more comfortably... I have nothing more to say to the An Family, what I owed, I've paid back in full."
An Zijie paused, then fell silent.
Who knows how much time passed before An Zijie suddenly called for a bottle of wine and started drinking on his own.
After a few glasses, his face began to redden.
In Shu Yimo's memory, An Zijie rarely drank, and to see him down several glasses in a row today was truly unprecedented.
