"I won't do anything for her ever again!" Ye Qingying immediately promised.
Chu Qianli gave him a smile. "Since that's the case, let's call all past grievances water under the bridge."
She served up a bowl of dumplings and presented it to him. "Try these. Eating dumplings on New Year's Eve symbolizes family unity."
Unity.
Holding that bowl of dumplings, Ye Qingying lowered his eyes, a touch of sorrow tinting his starry pupils, yet it was swiftly replaced by a feeling of being moved.
For the first time in his life, the word 'unity' felt so close to him.
"What are your plans for the future?" Chu Qianli asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
Ye Qingying's temperament was too calm, too reserved—one might say he often hid within his own shadow, rarely finding his way out.
He rarely found himself in a good mood.
His entire being was like a tool, from beginning to end.
A tool isn't supposed to have its own thoughts, its own feelings.