She gently held Fang Qingyue's hand and whispered, "Sister, Master Cheng is right."
“We can’t just rely on nothing.”
Fang Qingyue's heart softened slightly, and she finally sighed: "Okay, Master Cheng..."
"If you insist on doing this, I can only agree to it."
There was helplessness and a hint of gratitude in her voice.
When Cheng Qingyuan heard this, a relieved smile finally appeared on his face, as if the huge rock pressing on his heart had finally fallen.
He nodded, his tone full of determination: "Don't worry, I will definitely protect you and will never let you get hurt again."
The afternoon sun shines gently on the ancient town in the south of the Yangtze River. The streets are still bustling with people, and the sounds of hawking and wheels rolling can be heard one after another, as if everything is flowing peacefully.
But beneath this seemingly peaceful appearance, undercurrents are quietly surging.
Li Chengfeng stood at a corner of the street, looking towards the city gate in the distance with complicated eyes.
Shen Yuhan's followers were ready and waiting quietly for the general's return.
His departure time is about to come, but there is still some emotion in his heart that he cannot let go of, and that is his deep concern for Qingyue.
After many twists and turns, he still couldn't enter her heart. That calm and intelligent woman seemed like an insurmountable mountain, always standing in front of him.
Li Chengfeng felt confused. For some reason, he had a vague feeling that after today, he might never have the chance to see Fang Qingyue again.
He finally couldn't resist the impulse in his heart and decided to see her for the last time.
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