Li Qiyu stood there, a deep frown creasing her forehead.
Why was there a sharp pain in the void in her chest as if it was being seared?
"Emotional entanglement?" Li Qiyu clenched her fists. "I'm not a psychologist, am I?"
"The Young Master is ill because of you, and only you can cure him. Miss Li, you must have a way!"
Gazing at the youth with a withered complexion and deathly pale face, frail and lifeless, Li Qiyu's heart was repeatedly jabbed with pain.
Perhaps she had never truly hated him in the depths of her heart... It was more a sense of grievance, the pain of being abandoned by the most important person in her life, numbing her soul.
She thought back to her heartlessness towards Sheng Shinian in jail, saying words of unforgiveness that she would never take back.
She was just adept at masking her vulnerability with indifference.
