Many scenes, at the time they were very ordinary, not given much thought.
But after time has settled them, they have all become midnight longings and pains that gnaw at the bones.
Especially after drinking, when he pushes open the door, in this empty bedroom, there is no longer anyone to smile and throw themselves into his arms with complaints, half teasing, half angry.
In the past four years, what he saw every day when he came home was the despairing silence and darkness.
He spoke very slowly, every word filled with affectionate longing, his dark eyes lowered, not revealing much of the emotions in them.
The light in the corridor was soft, Wanxia's calm eyes did not ripple in the slightest.
She selectively filtered out some words, and as for what remained, she pretended not to hear anything.
Even though she managed to keep her heart at peace, the unique warmth of a man transmitted through her palm to her skin, made her feel somewhat resistant.
