He raised his hand, wanting to touch the iris, but the fingertips of his right hand stopped three millimeters above its center.
In the end, he only dared brush the petal that had melted out of shape, as though touching morning mist that would soon dissipate.
Moisture began gathering along the inner rims of his lower eyelids, like droplets of distilled water slowly condensing on the wall of a test tube. A tear slid down the bridge of Ji Ting's nose. When it reached the corner of his mouth, he pressed it into the taut line of his lips, but a faint hitch of breath still escaped.
Director Chang looked up and saw him crying. His mouth opened halfway, then slowly closed again.
Little Ji surely had no need for his comfort right now. He knew Ji Ting was missing Ji Yanzhi.
After a long while, Ji Ting closed his hand around the necklace.
The silver peanut nestled in his palm dug into his flesh, its sharp edges as piercing as the thunder that had struck his heart when Ji Yanzhi said they would not get married.
Ji Ting knew those words had been spoken in anger. Ji Yanzhi could only be hurting more than he was. Every harsh word had been an attempt to make him stay.
Ji Yanzhi had been right. When Ji Ting said he was leaving, he had not been asking; he had been informing him.
Heartless and unyielding, rational to a hateful degree.
Ji Ting did not regret his choice, but he regretted treating Ji Yanzhi that way, like a bastard who thought having a valid reason gave him license to hurt others.
After an unknown stretch of time, he lifted his slightly reddened eyes to Director Chang. "Aside from the necklace, did Ji Yanzhi