It's nearing mid-November, the weather is a bit chilly, and the wind is cold as well.
The cold wind sweeps by, rustling the leaves and lifting Ling Zhiyu's slender hair, the strands dancing and partially covering her face.
Ling Zhiyu doesn't bother with the messy strands, just pulls her coat tighter and says to Gu Zhiqi, "I've thought it through, I won't see him."
"I am very grateful that he brought me to this world, but we are just strangers with a blood relation." After saying that, Ling Zhiyu lowered her gaze and softly added, "This is quite good, each to their own well-being."
The wind seemed to have intensified, not only messing up Ling Zhiyu's hair but also scattering her soft-spoken words.
Gu Zhiqi listened, her expression unchanged, nodded slightly to Ling Zhiyu, then opened the car door and got in.
Ling Zhiyu stood in place, watching the car drive away.
