The past self had always been restraining the so-called memories. I also knew that I shouldn't keep struggling, that I should stop everything at an appropriate time, because everything had already been swallowed by time, leaving only a faintly painful echo. I knew that was purely a kind of kindness, and loving it was something that wouldn't lie.
While the two people were talking, Zhang Zhentian, without anyone knowing when, was standing outside the hospital room eavesdropping. She heard her wife utter such heartless words, and in a fit of anger, he pushed the door and barged into the room. When Old Master Zhang saw his son barging into the hospital room so recklessly, he thought when will his son ever grow up? Why does he always behave like a child who doesn't understand reason, entering other people's rooms so casually? Doesn't she know that this would make others feel they are very impolite?
