"The stories of the twenty-first century won't convince you, and the stories of the first men won't convince you either.
"In that case, why do you need me to answer?"
"So, is it a sweet memory or a scar between you two? It can't be the latter?"
"Well?"
“…But if it’s the former, why don’t you continue?
"I have always given you this opportunity. Could it be -" He glanced at her secretly:
"Could it be that you fell in love with me?"
After saying that, even he blushed. When did he become infected with the audacity in her words?
"Wan Xuecheng..."
"Okay, don't say it!"
Suddenly, he didn't want her to answer the question of whether she loved him prematurely.
Because he doesn't want to hear answers he doesn't want to hear.
So he said: "Well, um, I'm suddenly hungry, so I asked the waiter to bring something..."
What kind of answer did he not want to hear? He didn't even know.
He didn't want her to say she loved him, because that would make her feel uncomfortable and oppressed for no reason, and he didn't want her to say she didn't love him, because he knew he would be unhappy.
He suddenly fell into an unspeakable dilemma. He felt that his love could not find an outlet, and he was unwilling to fall in love with an unclean girl.
She knew that although he didn't say anything, he was quite concerned that his wife had had a past with another man.
She couldn't make him believe her true identity, and she couldn't drive him into an inextricable confusion. She knew that in the realm of love, he might sink, or he might not be able to find an exit.
This was a man's dignity and ancient customs, and she couldn't find any words to express condolences to him.
I had to follow his words:
"Yes, I feel very hungry too, so I will eat something to fill my stomach first."
The waiter brought dinner.
After they had eaten, Wan Xuecheng said, "You have a good rest. I'll go see Xueying first."