"You feel bad because you think you can't help Gu Ying, and you feel very guilty about it, right?"
Zhou Jingwei, true to his profession as a lawyer, had an ability to read people that left no room for dispute.
Cheng Weiyue scooped up the sweet corn rib soup with her spoon, nodded her head, and then said, "When I was at the hospital helping Gu Ying with her wound care, I felt so powerless...I couldn't help at all..."
Zhou Jingwei gently stroked the young girl's hair.
She had yet to enter society and had been in a greenhouse for a long time, with a limited capacity to accept many things in this world.
For a moment, Zhou Jingwei wanted to keep Cheng Weiyue safe in the greenhouse he had prepared for her.
The roses he tended could be spared from the battering of wind and rain.
But this thought was fleeting and he dismissed it.
His Little Yueliang was not a fragile little rose; his Little Yueliang was the moonlight of the fifteenth night.
