Du Lai raised his hand high, wishing he could slap her awake! But when he saw her tear-stained face, he couldn't bring himself to do it!
Maybe she was right.
He did like her—liked her beauty, liked her arrogance, liked the enviable social class she represented, a world he could never reach. In a way, she symbolized wealth and fame. What man wouldn't be tempted? But how much of this temptation and liking was genuine?
This kind of liking simply couldn't sustain their relationship!
Suddenly, he felt that both of them were pitiful... He was pitiful, she was pitiful—they were both striving for what they could never have.
Du Lai released his hand and sat despondently to the side, leaning against the cold, hard wall, closing his eyes.
Fu Miaoxue remained in her original position, sobbing miserably.
No one spoke again that night...
…
In the latter half of the night, it started to rain, pattering softly.
