Fu Yi's eyes instantly welled up with a thin layer of mist. Her nose was filled with a sour sensation. She pressed her lips tightly together, biting them, almost drawing blood.
In the car, Qiao Jingchen's eyes were filled with complex emotions. He didn't move, just watched Fu Yi.
His heart had already been swept by countless feelings.
This was his mother, his birth mother.
The grace of giving birth is greater than heaven, and the grace of nurturing is equally great.
The mother who carried him for ten months lost her son.
What on earth happened back then?
Qiao Jingchen didn't want to think about it, because whenever he did, his heart ached. He didn't know why, just that he didn't want to think about it.
Fu Yi looked at Qiao Jingchen for a while, her lips trembling. She wanted to speak, but couldn't get a word out, everything stuck in her throat.
Tears overflowed from her eyes, those were old tears.
They were tears of longing.
How many years had it been?
