Li Xingle didn't leave; he just sat downstairs drinking one sip at a time.
In the past, they didn't want him, but now that they're sick, they think of him.
What is he?
An animal that they can call and dismiss at will?
The hall was filled with the smell of alcohol. Li Xingle leaned against the sofa, staring at the ceiling lights.
There was only a cold smile in his eyes, but his chest hurt so much he could hardly breathe.
"Your illness just recovered, it's not suitable to drink." Li Buyan's voice suddenly appeared.
He thought he was hallucinating.
"I'll put it away for you. If you don't want to go back, you don't have to." She continued.
She lay in bed for a while, knowing how much he was hurting inside at the moment, so she came down.
If she were in Li Xingle's situation, she would break down too.
