"I..." Jian Anning didn't know what to say. She could feel Yu Zexiao's meaning—that her father's death was merely an accident, and she shouldn't blame herself entirely for such a tragic event. Even if she was truly at fault, ten years of self-punishment was enough. He didn't want to see her continue being so heartbroken.
"Anning, I think not only me but even your father wouldn't want to see you sink into despair. You have talent; your music has the power to move people. I truly hope you can muster the courage to forget the past. Even if you take this stage and play the piano, it doesn't mean you don't love your father."
"Zexiao..." Jian Anning looked at him, unsure of what to say. After a long pause, she painfully furrowed her brow: "Zexiao, I know everything you're saying, but I still..."
She laughed self-mockingly, "Besides, even if I wanted to play the piano, these ten years of neglect, ten years of wandering, cannot be easily remedied just like that."
