Tang Xiao cried.
Dominating and staunch, with an obstinate personality, she had always been indifferent and haughty.
Even during the process of healing old wounds, enduring immense pain and repeated torment, she never cried.
But now, she had become a figure of tears.
There were no sobbing whimpers, no convulsive shivering.
Tang Xiao stood there, watching Wu Jie serving dishes onto the table, silently shedding tears.
With her vast wealth, background connections, and social status...
With her experiences, knowledge, abilities, and character...
With her experience as the War King, the harsh training, and her tenacious fighting spirit...
Moved? Crying? Shedding tears?
Such things were almost impossible for her.
Perhaps it was for this reason that no man had ever attracted her or moved her before.
No matter what kind of expensive or rare gifts they gave, no matter how many extravagant words they spoke.
In her eyes, it was all worthless, even contemptible.
