After finally sending Xia Ruya off, Ning Shuqian dragged herself sluggishly to the backyard. As she stood in front of Wen Yuya's room, she turned the doorknob with strength as if she finally found a way to vent her frustration. But when she saw the person in the room, her anger instantly melted away and choked on her words, unable to say a thing.
Wen Yuya was sitting in her room alone. There was a willow tree outside. Snowflakes were falling, cold winds howling, and the leaves of the willow tree moved gently in the wind and swayed, looking less elegant. She stared blankly at the snow outside of the window. She was reminded of how delicate and helpless the snowflakes appeared and could not help but feel like a prisoner being confined in a cold prison cell. Her world had collapsed, and she was all alone.
Humiliation, despair, hatred, and pain slowly gnawed into her heart!
Other than that, she could not feel even a hint of warmth.
