When Luo Qingyao learned that her senior brother was setting off again, she naturally requested to accompany him.
Fan Wubing shook his head and declined, "I have to face this alone."
He didn't explain further. However, Luo Qingyao had known Fan Wubing for five or six years and understood him. She didn't act willfully and said softly:
"Alright, I'll wait for you here."
"Not going out to uphold justice?"
Luo Qingyao chuckled, "I'm not one to pursue justice blindly. It all goes by feeling."
Xianchan grasped Fan Wubing's hand, pursing her lips slightly, her eyes fixed on him, her eyebrows slightly furrowing inward.
"What's wrong, Xianchan?" Fan Wubing asked.
Xianchan's gaze remained steady on him, then she shook her head slowly.
"Does that mean 'nothing'?" Fan Wubing tentatively voiced her thoughts, "Or... should I not go?"
Xianchan slightly parted her lips.
Was she going to speak? Fan Wubing couldn't help feeling a bit nervous, wondering what her first words might be.
