"If only I had come earlier, you wouldn't have had such an unhappy life; you would have had what others have. It's my fault."
Wen Wanyu covered her eyes, suddenly feeling a strong urge to cry, overcome with sadness and self-blame.
She had specifically investigated Lu Qingyi's past life, but the information she had found was precisely what she didn't want to know.
Lu Qingyi's childhood was spent with her grandmother, a life devoid of paternal or maternal love. At a young age, she was unusually sensible and hardworking.
If only she could have been there earlier, Lu Qingyi's life might have changed dramatically.
Lu Qingyi: "It's not your fault."
Her fate wasn't linked to Wen Wanyu in any way. The only people she could blame were Yao Meishu and fate.
Fifteen minutes passed quickly and Lu Qingyi removed the silver needles, packing them neatly away.
"Aunt Wen, try to move a bit."
Lu Qingyi stood up and spoke.