Tang Yanqi did not leave; she stayed in the lounge next to the hall where Sheng Jiayu was resting. She's not superstitious, so she's not afraid of such places, nor does she feel unlucky. She simply has nowhere else to go.
Being here, with the old man who had a private bond with her yet took great care of her, was quite nice.
Sheng Jiayu pulled out a cigarette from her pocket, held it in her mouth, but didn't light it; she just kept it there.
After a long while, she glanced at Tang Yanqi, "You don't have to blame yourself. This has nothing to do with you; life and death, it's all about fate."
Tang Yanqi calmly glanced at Sheng Jiayu. Her eyes were bloodshot, filled with an undeniable sadness, and yet she was comforting her.
"You're not blaming me?"
