"Maybe he's not avoiding it because he doesn't want to face it, but because he feels guilty?" Zhou Jingwei said slowly, looking at Zhao Hanchen's slightly distracted expression.
Zhao Hanchen had once been Zhou Jingwei's close friend, and he knew a thing or two about the old affairs of the Zhou Family.
But when people die, they're like extinguished lamps; what is there that can't be let go?
Zhao Hanchen, frowning, asked, "Are you blaming your uncle?"
Zhou Jingwei did not answer.
"Zhou Jingwei... Some things aren't my place to say, and frankly, I don't wish to say them, but I still want to tell you, if you can let go of some things, just let them go."
"I know," Zhou Jingwei said nonchalantly, looking at Zhao Hanchen, "Thank you."
Then Zhao Hanchen said no more.
Both men stood in silence for a long time before Zhao Hanchen said, "I'll go offer incense to your mother."
