Over and over in her heart, she thought: If I never regain my memory, will you never apologize?
Actually, Fu Han knew her thoughts were biased, but she just couldn't control herself from spiraling into those places, her mind flooded with nothing but unpleasant memories; in such an atmosphere, she found it impossible to recall anything beautiful.
If her return to the country last year was meant to leave He Xing forever, now the thought of leaving him would only grow stronger, but could she do it?
Time rewound to before He Xing came down for dinner.
At that time, only she and Grandpa He were at the dining table. Grandpa He, as he did in her childhood, patted Fu Han's head and gently asked her, "Xiaohan, do you like He Xing?"
Such a simple question, black or white, but for Fu Han now, it was the most complex question imaginable.
She avoided Grandpa He's gaze, trying to dodge the question.
