The busy signal came through, and Qin Zhongsong stayed in the living room, eyes glazed.
Qin Yuji's words made Qin Zhongsong feel like she had slapped him, his face stinging with pain.
Yes, he had been too full of himself. She had made it clear she didn't care about him, yet he foolishly thought she was still plotting against him.
The phone in his hand fell to the ground with a thud, but Qin Zhongsong seemed not to hear it.
He turned around and walked toward the bedroom, only to feel a buzzing ringing in his ears, and his vision was filled with waves of darkness.
Stretching out his hand to brace against the door frame, Qin Zhongsong clutched it tightly, preventing himself from falling to the floor. Lifting his eyes, he saw the messy bed in the bedroom, and a wave of sorrow surged in his heart.
When Liu Huiru was around, the house was always clean and tidy.
