Li Beicheng lazily squinted his eyes, allowing Yan Shuirou to waste her energy in a half-hearted smile.
For some reason, he was sure of his own health, yet he had lost all interest in such matters.
Perhaps the things you cannot have are always the best. When he looked at Yan Shuirou's face, which bore a resemblance to Yan Xiaye's, his thoughts inevitably drifted toward her.
In the past month, he had reflected on everything Yan Xiaye had done since her release from prison.
His memories of her seemed to be frozen five years prior, so he found it particularly hard to accept her present hatred and disregard for him.
Especially that time he proposed to her. He had been thoroughly prepared, his acting so convincing he nearly deceived even himself, with perfect gaze and gestures.
How could Yan Xiaye be indifferent to their past?
She once claimed to have seen through him, and he had dismissed it with scorn.
Thinking back, could it have been her sincere words?
