Liu Mingxing was crying softly in her arms, like a child who had suffered unbearable grievances. Meng Xi'er remembered the first time she saw her—time flies, five years had passed. How could the her from five years ago ever believe that the lively girl she once knew could fall into such a tragic state today.
How unpredictable life is, the past joy seems like a mirage or a moon's reflection on water, only the lingering pain is real.
Liu Mingxing cried for a long time before her tears gradually subsided. Physically exhausted, she became weary and collapsed onto the bed, breathing weakly.
Meng Xi'er gently wiped her tear-streaked little face with a wet towel and said softly, "You should rest well."
Liu Mingxing nodded, and with her eyes closed, she said, "Xixi, you can go back. I'm okay."
Meng Xi'er looked at her pale face, with a hint of a deathly aura about her, as if the very essence of her life had been drained from her body.
