Every word of accusation transformed into a boulder, crushing at the heart of Yang Yuran.
Her throat was dry and tight.
"Why don't you say something? Do you not even have the desire to explain yourself to me? Well, if you had considered my feelings even a bit, you wouldn't come to show off."
Zhou Yuanyuan sighed bitterly, waited for more than ten seconds, wiped the tears off her wet cheeks, and hung up the call.
The system's "beep beep beep" echoed for a long time.
Yang Yuran stared blankly ahead until her shoulder was tapped, and her body shuddered before she snapped back to reality.
"Xiaoqin is here."
Mrs. Yang reminded her, was the first to put on a smile.
Qin Muyu held two cups of hot jujube tea, which he had just asked his assistant to buy. After the two finished drinking, they went to the Yang Family's old house together.
On the road.
Yang Yuran took out her phone and sent a message to Zhou Yuanyuan.
