Fu Xingbo looked at Fu Han with a deep gaze and then started to laugh meaningfully, "Then do you feel grateful to Xia Ning, Xia Cheng, and the Xia Guoxiong family of three?"
The already quiet ward became even quieter at his words, to the point where one could almost hear a pin drop.
Time ticked by, and in Fu Han's eyes, there had been a cycle of sunrise and sunset. When the outside had turned completely to night, Fu Han parted her thin lips and finally spoke with difficulty, "I don't feel grateful to them; I hate them!"
"Good girl," Fu Xingbo rubbed Fu Han's hair again, his smile tender and indulgent, "It was He Xing who was saved by Xia Ning's mother, not you. Remember, you never have to bear this kindness, understand?"
"Mm, I understand," nodded Fu Han. The light shone on her eyes, which sparkled like the glinting surface of water.
