"If it's because of my job, I've said it before: just give me a few years, and I will change to a different position—"
"How many years of youth do I have?"
Xiao Qian turned her face away. She could face all kinds of eyes, even those of supremely domineering and high-ranking people; she had never been afraid.
But she was afraid of seeing his eyes.
These eyes were too precious and too pure for her, filled with youthful love and without any impurities.
Now, she had to tear this gaze apart with her own hands; it was too cruel for him, and for her as well.
But that's life.
"Are you serious?" Yu Minglang stepped back, looking at the woman in front of him.
The woman who had been dating him for several months but felt like she had been living in his heart for many years.
"I'm serious. I've had enough of the endless waiting, I've had enough of not being myself for your sake, I've had enough—"
