A Low Cry for Mercy

She used to think that Qin Chuan did all of those things for her.

She had no idea that it was Ye Zhizhou all along.

Mingzhu couldn't tell how sick she felt right at the moment. It was just like swallowing a fly.

She even felt a bit of warmth in this sickness.

Mingzhu said in a hoarse voice, "Let me think about it."

Her legs were weak. It was as if she had lost control of her calves.

Ye Zhizhou didn't push her, but he whispered, "Mingzhu, I always remember you told me that my eyes were as beautiful as jewels when you first saw me."

There was an imperceptible bitterness in Ye Zhizhou's voice.

His status prevented him from making or having any friends.

The last thing a man of his status needed to do was get emotional.

Both friendship and love were not something he could afford.

He remembered that he used to have a favorite white cat when he was a little boy, and the white cat was very spiritual.