Translator: Larbre Studio Editor: Larbre Studio

Xiyan brought out a sheet and blanket she bought online for warmer weather and put them on the couch. It could be quite cold at night in the city.

"Stay warm so you don't get a cold," she talked to him as if he were some five-year-old while smoothing the sheet.

Hao watched her doing everything. Even though she tried to hide it, he still noticed her eyes brimming with tears, and her sorrow was just too enormous to neglect.

"He Xiyan…" Hao found himself take her hand, a tiny, slender, warm hand.

Xiyan paused, her eyes drifting from their hands to the man looking at her sternly. She frowned, uncertain what he was going to do, and tried to pull her hand out but his grip was too firm.

Hao led her to sit beside him and gently held her shoulders. How come she's still so skinny with a baby in her?

He gazed at her, her face pink from nervousness.

In shock, Xiyan stared at the man, "Please don't." She gave him an unpleased look, shaking his hands off her shoulder, giving it her all.

"Alright, relax," Hao chuckled. She's always on alert.

"I have a few questions for you," he wiped strands of hair from her forehead, "Do you like me?"

He used a quite deep voice to emphasize his seriousness, asking because he couldn't tell from his own judgment. This woman would buy him gifts, cook him dinner, and, as far as he's concerned, be extremely nice to him. The way she looked at him, however, had always been impassive and emotionless, confusing his reading of her heart.

Xiyan drew her lip in and sucked it, shaking her head in regret.

The question had never occurred to her before, plus she was in no position to love another man.

Hao felt a pang of throes piercing through.

"Do you still love him? Your ex-husband?" This time his voice was much higher, as a sign of discontent.

Xiyan arched a sneer and shook her head again, a flash of sorrow crossing her face.

Five years she had loved the man, and yet he never fell for her. He even dumped her for not being able to give him a child. And after everything that had happened, he wanted her back, as his mistress. Her whole love story was a pathetic joke. To him, she was nothing more than a cheap chick.

Hao gave a deep sigh, upset for not hearing what he wanted to hear, and sank into a reverie.

"Go get some rest, He Xiyan," he waved, flinging himself on the couch.

Light off, she closed the curtains and poured him a glass of water. She didn't know that, in darkness, he found it hard to close his eyes with everything on his mind.

He did like her. If she felt the same way, he thought, then he would consider marrying her, even if that meant her having that baby. But she seemed to have lost her faith in love, in any relationship, and he had no idea how to deal with that. On the other hand, he felt for her and it pained him every time he looked at her tear-filled eyes.

"By the way, He Xiyan…" he blurted to the woman drying her hair in front of the vanity.

Xiyan turned around to find him engulfed in darkness.

"You can always come to me for help. I'll help you!"

Hao promised the woman.

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