She couldn't bear to leave them, nor could she bear to let other women have them.
Her eyes warmed, and glistening tears streamed down her cheeks. She buried her small face in her knees and whimpered softly—it really felt unbearable.
Outside the door, Huai Fu Yueming had stopped kicking the door. Although he couldn't kick it open, his deep, narrow eyes rested on the red blood threads. He slightly lowered his head as the evening breeze stirred the bangs on his forehead; he steadied his rapid breathing with his chest heaving, then clenched his large hands at his sides into fists.
One was inside, the other outside, constituting two separate worlds.
The tall figure of the man lingered outside the door for a very long time before he finally gritted his teeth and said, "Mi Yao, you just wait for me; you're going to get it!"
He turned and left.
