"Will you stay for me, not do what you want to do, not leave me, not leave the child?"
Chi Zaozao looked hopefully at the man before her, yearning for him to nod and promise her—promise not to leave her, not to leave the child, not to leave this home.
How could he know? In her world, if he were gone, her life would be nothing but pain and torment.
Why couldn't he feel the same way she did?
Or was it that, in his heart, she meant so little to him?
After all, she knew deep down—since childhood, it had always been her one-sided pursuit of him, her one-sided love for him.
Had he ever cared for her feelings the way she cared for his?
"Zaozao!"
He gazed at her with restrained eyes, at her pale, sorrow-stained face, at her tear-glazed gaze that begged him not to leave. His chest ached—it felt as though a blade had sliced across his heart.
A raw and searing pain surged within him.
