Qiao Qingyu took out a handkerchief to wipe away He Xuerong's tears and whispered a few words before she stood up, smiled at He Xiuyu with pursed lips, and then picked up her bag and walked to the upstairs waiting hall.
When she looked back upstairs, Qiao Qingyu saw He Xiuyu holding He Xuerong's hand, also looking up at her. It was hard to describe the feeling, but her heart felt a little sour.
Qiao Qingyu had to admit that, at this moment, her heart was soft.
Half an hour later, Qiao Qingyu boarded the train to North City.
He Xiuyu, however, was holding the teary-eyed He Xuerong. Although he felt a bit inexplicably lost, for some reason, joy outweighed his sense of loss.
On one hand, he was delighted that Rongrong was expressing her emotions more and more richly, and on the other hand, he was pleased that Qingyu seemed to be finally letting down her guard, bit by bit.
This was a good sign.
