At this time, Su Qiao had already returned home. She held a remote control in her hand and was controlling something.
Meanwhile, He Meishu had already sent Min Xingyu back to his apartment.
She helped him onto the bed, then went to the bathroom, got a damp towel, and wiped his face and hands.
"Meishu, if... if one day you discovered that you had accidentally done something wrong, what would you do?"
The alcohol was taking effect. Min Xingyu's entire face and neck were flushed red.
His mind was hazy, and he had lost his usual sternness. Instead, he seemed more vulnerable.
He grabbed He Meishu's hand as if he were clutching the last straw.
He Meishu paused, then said, "If it was unintentional, then sincerely ask for the other person's forgiveness. That should make things a little better."
"But what if they can't forgive you?"
Min Xingyu looked utterly dejected, without his usual sharpness and spirited confidence.
He Meishu was silent for a moment. "Then you can only do your best to make amends."
Min Xingyu slowly closed his eyes, but the deep crease between his brows revealed the conflict and struggle in his heart.
"What if making amends meant losing everything you have now—your reputation, status, family, and freedom?"
He Meishu placed the towel on the bedside table and said gently, "Brother Xingyu, there are many ways to make amends. We don't necessarily have to use such an extreme method."
"Many things aren't what we want, and they aren't necessarily our fault either. They're things fate has decreed, and we can't change them. All we can do is work harder and take everything in life more seriously."
"Are there really that many ways?"
Min Xingyu opened his eyes slightly and stared at her blankly.
He Meishu soothingly stroked