‘You blame me, Li’er.”
As these somewhat low and melodious words left Li’er’s mouth, both people trembled. Tong Li’er’s face slowly turned pink, and her pair of bright, intelligent eyes gradually turned watery, as if touched by the spring breeze, causing ripples to spread. Jun Xu, on the other hand, was desperately trying to suppress the urge to smooth out the goose bumps on her skin, and cold sweat was dripping from her closed eyes.
The wind shook off more snow-like petals. Junxu felt something gently press against her body, and her hand fell into the cool, water-like hair. She could feel Tongli’s accelerated heartbeat and warm breath on her chest.
Junxu frowned slightly, sighed gently, and slowly stroked his head. This… This is just a child. Cai Han is twelve, and she is eighteen in this body, so how old is Tong Li? How old is this child who was sacrificed like this in the midst of power struggles and intrigue?
Gently stroking his head
‘Li’er, how old are you?’
Tong Li was a little aggrieved, and buried his face in Junxu’s chest
“Sixteen’
‘Sixteen…”
Junxu gently frowned. There are two kinds of people in the world: those who have suffered and therefore feel justified in seeing anyone else suffer, and those who, because they have suffered, always want to shield others from suffering. Junxu belonged to the latter.
Lishu Liang often sighed at her, Junxu, you are not a saviour.
Junxu opened her eyes and looked at the clusters of pear blossoms above her head. She gently patted Tongli’s back
‘Don’t worry, I’ll help you get out of here…’
If you can be happy, be happy.
In that lifetime, how many people had extended a warm hand to her, Junxu? How many had given her Junxu their purest feelings? There were so many, so many that Junxu could forgive and understand so many things.
Perhaps Junxu was originally a devil, but she was a devil who lived in gratitude.