Qiao Aiyun was flustered. She was terrified of making the same mistake again, and she didn't even have the courage to ask him.
When she thought about how he had been leaving early and returning late for the past few days, her heart was a mess, and her brain was dizzy, as if someone had hit her hard with a hammer. Her head was so painful that it was buzzing, and she was so dizzy that she couldn't think.
She went up to the second floor like a walking corpse while stumbling, almost knocking over a vase on the side of the corridor.
Her interactions with Yan Wangchuan during this period of time intertwined and alternated with her unbearable past with Song Jingren in her mind, and her heart was in turmoil.
Before she could reach her door, her arm was grasped firmly by someone who came running wildly behind her.
"Aiyun!" Yan Wangchuan looked at her, the anxiety and helplessness in his eyes no less than hers.
