Liu Xinyu let out a long breath, his voice still hoarse.
He tugged at the corners of his mouth, trying to smile, but he had cried for so long that his facial muscles were stiff, and the smile looked worse than crying.
"I lost my composure a little. I'll go wash my face."
He stood up and left the tearoom, looking a little embarrassed.
Zhou Qiang and Wang Xiaoliang watched him go, both silent.
But the moment Liu Xinyu turned away, a new question surfaced in Wang Xiaoliang's mind.
Something's wrong.
Very wrong.
Liu Xinyu just said, "I really have no one I can tell all this to."
Why didn't he have anyone to tell?
Liu Xinyu had said he couldn't talk to Fan Qishan.
Wang Xiaoliang glanced at Fan Qishan, who had remained silent beside him.
What a weirdo.
Talking to him was probably harder than talking to a wall.
He only ever ended conversations in the simplest, most direct, and most stifling way possible.
Liu Xinyu was right.
Then... what about Yang Qingyu?
As soon as that name surfaced, Wang Xiaoliang's doubts grew even greater.
Childhood sweethearts, innocent childhood companions, and now his fiancée, about to marry him.
Shouldn't she be the one person in the world he could talk to about anything?
If something this serious happened to Wang Xiaoliang, the first person he would want to confide in, the first person he would turn to for comfort, would definitely be Wei Zijin.
He would tell her all his fear, helplessness, and confusion.
Because he knew she would understand. She would stay by his side.
But why hadn't Liu Xinyu said anything?
Not only had he said nothing, but judging by what he had just said, he was even avoiding Yang Qingyu.
That was far too strange.