Her own flesh and blood, the son she had raised from babyhood, was insulting her so horribly, so readily severing ties with her—anyone would be heartbroken to the utmost.
The snow was heavy tonight, and the cold wind kept howling.
That was why Yin Xueyang's heart felt so sad. Half an hour ago, a thought had arisen within her that she herself deemed despicable.
To call Li Zhiyan and chat with him.
Although knowing it would make her appear utterly contemptible—having been bullied to such a state by Li Zhiyan and still making the first move to call and chat with him—wasn't that just abject humiliation?
Yet, Yin Xueyang simply couldn't control her own thoughts.
Unwittingly, as if under a spell, Yin Xueyang dialed Li Zhiyan's number.
After Li Zhiyan's voice came through, Yin Xueyang suddenly snapped back to reality.
What on earth was she doing?
"Nothing."
Now fully alert, Yin Xueyang's voice turned frosty.
