With a deep frown, he walked forward slowly and asked in a cold voice with some displeasure and impatience: "Mu Wanqing, it's late at night, if you don't go home and go to the ward to take care of your son, what are you doing sitting here?!"
Yang Mufan tried hard to suppress her extreme impatience and anger. When she called Mu Wanqing's name for the fifth time, she finally came to her senses in a daze.
After maintaining the same posture for a long time, sitting there, Mu Wanqing felt that her whole body was so stiff that she couldn't even move her fingers.
She turned her head to look hard and slowly. The moment she raised her head, she could clearly see Yang Mufan's profound, stylish, and extraordinary face, which made all women crazy and fascinated when they saw it. It reflected the dim and hazy orange color in the garden.
The street lamps are even more beautiful, like the hero walking out of an anime.
Mu Wanqing was in a trance. She wanted to say something, but her mouth couldn't move. She tried her best to make it happen, but her lips trembled faintly.
Yang Mufan seemed to be getting more and more impatient with her, and seemed to be getting more and more disgusted with her. He just waited for a while, then dropped a word and walked away without looking back.
He said disgustedly: "Since you like to sit here, just sit here. If you die here, no one will frown."
On that day, Mu Wanqing cried all the way to the villa next to Huixi Shangyuan...
Even she herself didn't know why she was crying so hard and couldn't stop her tears.
It was ten o'clock in the evening in the early winter, and it was freezing cold. Mu Wanqing, with her hunched and thin body, was wandering the streets and alleys of City A like a lonely ghost.
The night was deep and dark, reflecting the dim yellow street lights, like an endless ice cellar, so cold that there was no warmth at all.
Mu Wanqing walked staggeringly, and her ears were filled with the sound of vehicles speeding past. She was so stunned that she didn't know where she was going. She only vaguely felt that Yang Mufan's words seemed to be...
Mu Wanqing didn't know how she got back to the villa or what time she arrived. She only knew that she had a high fever.
My whole body was sore, painful and tender, and my head was so painful that it felt like it was going to explode.
She was lying on the bed, like a shrimp that had been cruelly stripped of its protective shell, huddled on the bed dripping with blood and shivering.
She was so dizzy from the fever that she couldn't tell whether she was hallucinating or dreaming.
All night long, all she could think about was that in the winter when she was fifteen, she had an argument with Yang Mufan for the first time, ran out in anger, and hid on a bench on the street.
That day, there was light rain and light snow in the sky. White snowflakes floated on her eyelashes, mixed with her tears, and dripped together.
When Yang Mufan came out to look for her, it was already ten o'clock in the evening. She looked at him with tears in his eyes, wearing black cold-proof clothes, standing in the thick fog of winter night, looking unusually tall and straight...
