Wu Xiaowen felt she had never been this miserable in her entire life. It was a gut-wrenching agony, the kind that made her want to vomit up blood just to be able to breathe again.
The Tang Qingyun who usually discussed everything with her, hung on her every word, and doted on her was now like a different person—cold, distant, and utterly indifferent. Wu Xiaowen knew he was truly at his wit's end. The old man in Beijing wouldn't even take their calls, so it wasn't like he could just run back home and beg for help.
'But I cried my heart out all night, and he didn't even come to comfort me,' she fumed internally. 'That's just too much! And he claims to love me, that he'd die for me? It's all a lie!'
