Wei Chengfeng's words were truly hurtful—not just slightly, but profoundly so.
A woman's heart is like glass, fragile to any blow, and Chengfeng, in matters of love, was inflexible and straightforward, which only deepened the injury.
Tears streaming endlessly might seem an overstatement, but Lin Ruan's tears indeed were not few.
In front of a table full of dishes, she now had no appetite at all.
Lin Ruan wiped her eyes and picked up her cup, downing the drink without a second thought. Maybe she drank too hastily because she choked and turned to cough incessantly. But as she coughed, she began to cry again, even more fiercely than before.
Chengfeng could never stand a woman's tears. In the past, when Su Li cried on occasion, he didn't know why, but it pained his heart to watch her, yet it annoyed him to see other women cry.
However, as annoying as it was, he couldn't just leave. He had to sit there, watch her cry, and wait until she finished.
