From the time he had memory, he had been the designated heir of the Yu Family.
Countless days and nights were filled with studying and training, he had never tasted parental affection.
Perhaps in his naive youth, he had anticipated his parent's love, but now, his heart had long been toughened into a wall of copper and iron by the old man.
Late warmth was not trustworthy.
The Lady of the Yu Family sensed his detachment, seemingly accustomed to it, she withdrew her hand and stood quietly on the side.
Every second of waiting outside the operating room was excruciating.
Drip, drip.
Lu Xingye was annoyed by the sound in his ears; frowning, he looked over and realized it was drop by drop of blood falling from Yu Chiyin's palm.
The silk scarf from the D Brand was a luxury, quite expensive, but loosely tied and ineffective in stopping the blood.
In a short while, the spot where Yu Chiyin stood had already accumulated a small pool of dark red bloodstains.
