Just like when his father was sick, his always pampered mother would go against her usual demeanor and personally make soup to serve him.
Vaguely, it was like the kind of family life he had long yearned for.
At this moment, there was no longer Huang Ma between them—but he knew there was an even more terrifying and insurmountable chasm—a point of no return.
Currently, he was still Zhou Ting's husband in the legal sense; how could he completely escape Zhou Ting's shadow?
And her?
Whose was she?
He didn't dare to think further, nor did he have the strength.
He only wished for time to pause here for a moment, just a moment would be enough.
Finally, she returned after tidying everything up.
By that time, the last ray of sunset had already hidden, the summer sky ablaze like fire, even the tall tree opposite was edged with a golden rim.
She helped him sit in a comfortable rocking chair, by his side, the scent of clear tea lingering.
