Hearing the cold and indifferent reply on the phone, Shang Xixia's eyes began to mist over, her vision grew increasingly blurred.
He loved her so much. For so many years, he had been content to wait. His phone was never turned off—not even once. The fact that it was off now, without needing much thought, made it clear just how desperate and heartbroken he must be.
Scenes from the past began to surge uncontrollably like a frenzy before the little woman's eyes. Her heart gradually grew softer and softer in the midst of her reflections.
"He's been so good to me, so good that he's practically forgotten himself..."
Thinking about this, Shang Xixia's voice softened. She lowered her bright star-like eyes, wrapped her fair arms around her knees, and rested her pure, delicate face on her legs. The more she thought, the more heartache she felt.
After quite a while, the little girl finally opened her handbag and slowly placed her phone inside.
