Mrs. Qiao said, "Mr. Ji, you said it yourself—that was all in our youth. Things aren't what they used to be. It seems I've grown old and lost my luster, regressing with each passing year, only to be reprimanded by Mr. Ji."
Ji Bo Lian clicked his tongue twice, gazing at her profile.
"Didn't we agree in our letters? We would put on an act to keep Xiao Wu at home. How was my performance?"
Mrs. Qiao, unwilling to face him, said, "It was brilliant."
Ji Bo Lian asked with concern, "You weren't hurt by the shards from the cup, were you?"
He reached out to put an arm around Mrs. Qiao's shoulder, but she frowned and brushed it away.
Mrs. Qiao said sarcastically, "It was just a cup. The most it could do is break the skin. It can't break a person's heart."
A bitter look crossed Ji Bo Lian's face. He knew what she meant.
"I had the best of intentions. If you still don't understand me, my heart might just shatter into a thousand pieces."
