"Mu Qing'er, you are so cold-blooded. My brother has devoted himself to you. This is how you repay him. Are you just watching him abuse himself like this, ah?" Murong Yan roared, completely losing his former heartlessness. His eyes really wanted to eat the person in front of him alive.
"I'm just a withered butterfly. I can't save myself, so how can I save others? Master Murong overestimated me." Mu Qing'er turned her head, as if to strengthen her heart and the path under her feet, and said goodbye in a calm tone, "Thank you for taking care of me in the past. Take good care of yourself. Goodbye."
. . . . . .
"Little fool, if I rush to the airport on the day you leave the country, will you stay?" Mo Zhai asked as if he had accidentally asked the person in his arms.
After a long time, the person who seemed to be sleeping in his arms said "yes" in his sleep, and the breeze blew on his face. It seemed that the answer had never happened before, but Mo Zhai's hand holding the baby tightened again, and the smile at the corner of his mouth deepened.
Maybe Mu Qing'er's answer has already determined the outcome. Some people have already taken root in their hearts. Even if the land is leveled, the traces of him in their hearts cannot be erased. Maybe it's just a call, the old leaves become a forest, and you have lost your heart.