[Those whose hearts are not like Buddha's cannot become healers.]
Qi Yue's heart twinged with pain, and she sighed in resignation, closing her eyes.
"Father, when you left me, when you left mother, did you ever feel regret?"
For a moment, she suddenly let out a bitter laugh.
"Ha, what right do I have to speak of you? Didn't I also leave mother behind?"
Suddenly feeling exhausted, she slumped down in front of the sofa and fell into a deep sleep.
Time trickled by, and the night grew deep.
The convicts holed up in the horse stables were all asleep, but the lights were still on in the room where the Zhao family members at the post station stayed.
Zhao Yongzhe was sitting upright on the kang bed, silent.
Zhao Xiyan's mask had already been removed, his incredibly beautiful face showing anxiety.
Zhao Yonglian paced back and forth on the ground, almost wearing a hole through the floor.
