After Yeh Huang left, Long Linger remained silent, sitting quietly on a stone from morning till afternoon. Yeh Mohan brought over a bowl of porridge, sitting in front of Long Linger.
"Have something to eat! Otherwise, you'll get a stomachache." There was endless tenderness in Yeh Mohan's eyes.
Long Linger reached out to pluck a stalk of foxtail grass, twirling it in her hand, resting her chin on her palm, gazing at the distant horizon.
"Mohan, I don't know why, but I feel like I might have misjudged him!"
"Why?"
"I can't quite explain it, we've lived together for so long, his care for me was genuine."
"But sometimes, if someone hasn't shown their fangs, you won't know that they're a fierce beast. You heard it yourself; he plainly said he doesn't like you and won't marry you. Even if he means no harm, do you think there's any need to stay with him?"
