Gu Qiaoqiao stared at Qin Yize and suddenly said word by word, "Qin Yize, you will never know how much I once liked you."
Qin Yize was shocked, staring blankly at the murmuring Gu Qiaoqiao.
Gu Qiaoqiao lay on the bar, in front of her was an empty wine glass.
She swallowed the rest of her words.
How she wanted to tell Qin Yize how much she had liked him in the past.
But when this liking was built on naive ignorance about life and a helplessness about human relationships, this liking was covered with a dark light.
As the dark night gradually consumed this light, she didn't even know herself whether this fondness was devoured by the night or buried by it.
If it was devoured by the night, it would never return.
But if it was buried by the darkness, then if she tried hard, she might be able to lift the dark veil and reveal its true face.
But what was it really?
The Gu Qiaoqiao of today no longer knew.
Her mind was in turmoil.
