Without thinking or remembering, one wouldn't feel pain. Now, she seldom thought of anything about that man, except when dreams haunt her at midnight, every restless and sleepless night, memories surged in her heart, tears dampened her pillow, and melancholy filled her belly.
No matter how deeply ingrained her subservience was, she was still just a woman, and in the end, she couldn't escape the word "love."
The wound had been torn open by Yun Ya, hurt so badly she couldn't scream.
Yun Ya held a tissue to wipe the tears off her face, softly saying, "A woman's tears are the most precious thing, even more valuable than pearls. They should flow for the person who needs them most."
"Look, your makeup has been ruined by crying." Yun Ya sighed, took out a compact from her bag, dabbed some fine powder on a puff, and carefully touched up her makeup.
