Although it was just within reach, in Yue Jinghua's eyes, Qing Pu's towering figure amidst the bustling crowd seemed ever more distant.
At that moment, Yue Jinghua understood from his silhouette not only anger but also a deep, unfathomable sorrow.
"Qing Pu, why are you sorrowful..." Yue Jinghua's mouth tasted bitter, her lips dry, yet she still didn't voice her question.
The relationship between her and Qing Pu had long been established.
Qing Pu never asked "where she came from," and she never asked Qing Pu "who he truly was."
Their way of relating was fragile and laughable, yet it was precisely this manner that became the best way for them to get along.
Both had personalities like hedgehogs; getting too close would only hurt each other.
Thinking of this, Yue Jinghua chose to remain silent, confident that Qing Pu would confess when the time was right.
"Huahua, what's wrong with you?" Yue Minzhi, beside her, gently nudged Yue Jinghua.
