"Ali only left for half the night; she returned before dawn,"
Although Feng Yexuan had already guessed it, hearing Fu Long say it out loud still tore at his heart a bit more.
His voice hoarse, he asked, "Since the night she returned, she has seemed like a completely different person, hasn't she?"
Fu Long met his gaze and finally nodded.
Feng Yexuan sat in the chair, propping his forehead on his elbow.
Fu Long wasn't very familiar with him, but he had known of Prince War God for a long time, since over a decade ago.
In over a decade, he had never seen the Prince in such a state of powerless discomfort.
He thought Ali had changed, and he himself gradually seemed to have discovered something. Now, his pain was the heaviest and greatest.
But in front of Feng Yexuan, he suddenly realized that his own pain was far less than one-tenth of the Prince's.
He must be feeling both angry and anxious now.