In the bathroom, Gu Yibei had already asked Qin Yu to prepare new towels and a washbasin. Li Yuan found these two items, placed the basin under the faucet, turned it to the hot water setting to fill it, and then put the towels into the basin to soak.
"Uncle," Eddie called out as he followed in.
Li Yuan did not answer, but calmly turned off the tap.
Eddie stared at him intently through the mirror on the wall. After a few seconds, she finally mustered her courage and asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Before this, he only knew that his parents and sister had an accident twenty years ago, but he did not know that Hart was responsible, nor did he know the details.
Li Yuan rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, dipped his slender hands into the hot water, soaked a towel, and replied casually while busy with his hands.
"Hate can make or break a person."
Eddie is still too young. The things he experienced in his youth have indeed made him more mature than his peers, but he is still somewhat impulsive. If he knew that Hart had not died, he would not be so composed all these years.
"Although you are not my child, you are still a child I raised with my own hands."
He could understand the torment of being dominated by a deep-seated hatred, with one's mind filled with resentment every moment.
It was precisely because he had endured this torment that he didn't want Eddie to suffer with him.
He was just a child.
"..."
Eddie paused, stunned, upon hearing Li Yuan's words, "You are the child I raised with my own hands."
Li Yuan picked up the basin with one hand, turned his head, and patted his shoulder with the other: "Uncle promises you, after a month, Hart will be handed over to you, and you can do whatever you want with him."
Eddie's eyes stung, and he parted his lips to say, "Thank you, Uncle."
………
Li Yuan dreamed again of the moments he shared with Xi Luo twenty years ago. He remembered that neither of them liked crowds back then. Their way of getting along was very simple: he would sit in the yard reading and be her free model, while she would sit in front of the easel and paint him carefully.
Once, he pulled her into his arms, rested his chin on her shoulder, and asked.
Why do you like drawing me so much?
She used to paint landscapes often, but after they got together, her paintings only featured him.
Xiluo, holding a paintbrush, couldn't stop laughing as he was deliberately rubbing his hair against Xiluo's face.
She is very beautiful, especially when she smiles.
She returned—
There's a Chinese saying: "A bad pen is worse than a good memory." Even the best memory will eventually fade with age. Only by repeatedly drawing and imprinting the image in your mind can you recall it effortlessly, even decades later when your memory is poor.
She paused, looked at him, and said earnestly, "I just want to etch you into my mind, so I can think of you anytime, anywhere."
The fond memories of yesteryear have now become the key to mocking Li Yuan.
The first half of his dream was filled with beautiful and loving moments with Xi Luo, while the second half saw Xi Luo standing in front of him, looking like Luo Ling.
Even after many years, her special qualities remained unchanged, and he recognized her at a glance.
However, the look she gave him was no longer one of love, but of unfamiliarity.
In her dream, she sneered at him: "Ling Yin Warrens, you're nothing more than a mission for me. I will never fall in love with you."
I will absolutely never fall in love with you...
I will absolutely never fall in love with you...
I will absolutely never fall in love with you...
Li Yuan shuddered in his sleep, then suddenly opened his eyes, panting heavily.
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