The shouts of the people continued unabated, and no one attempted to quell them. As they watched the crowd, Chen Chaoyang and Li Xiaoyan exchanged glances. One had an impassive face, the other a sardonic grin. But in each other's eyes, they saw a different emotion.
One had lost his left arm, the other his right. Misery loves company, it seems.
Yan Jie kept a poker face as well. He wasn't sure whether to smile or not as his emotions had dissipated. He felt like a machine running on pre-set programming, his happiness and sorrow stored in mere memory. All he could do was recall what happiness or sadness felt like.
Staring at his own hands, he murmured, "Perhaps I've truly changed . . ."
When he met Tang Ye again, the first thing he said was, "You've changed a lot."
