Their faces remained deathly pale, not regaining a hint of color even after a long time.
Looking at her, an inexplicable description flashed through his mind.
A face of death.
Bo Shuxian remained silent. He flicked off a bit of ash, brought the cigarette to his lips, drew in a forceful breath, and the veins on the back of his hand stood out stark white.
For a while, one could only hear Zhou Zining's breathing and the sound of him exhaling smoke.
It felt like the tense atmosphere could hold indefinitely, until Bo Shuxian finally spoke, "Do you love him that much?"
Zhou Zining's body stiffened. She jerked her head up, glaring at him with resentment, her teeth biting down hard on her lip. She didn't say a word, but her eyes seemed to accuse the man in front of her as if he were her sworn enemy.
Instead of the husband who had once been affectionate to her.
"Yes!"
When Zhou Zining opened her mouth, blood poured out.
