"He doesn't even dare snatch a woman; do you think he has the guts to shoot?" Ning Zihuan cursed, eventually storming off angrily.
If Ning Zihuan didn't leave soon, Fu Bai really couldn't help but rush up and beat him.
"Have they gone?" As night approached, his eyes gradually lost their sparkle, just like the night, deep and cold.
Fu Bai glanced at the man's thin, frail silhouette, carrying a solitude deeper than the cold night outside the window.
"Gone."
"When is her wedding?" the man asked softly, his voice ethereal, devoid of any emotion.
Fu Bai looked closely at his face; though the room wasn't lit, the man's jade-like features emitted a soft glow under the moonlight, like cold jade, warm yet cool.
"June." He pursed his lips: "It's exactly three months from today."
Pei Qinghan slowly curved his lips, "It's soon...."
Fu Bai couldn't help saying, "Brother Han, why are you putting yourself through this? Let it go."
