The driver rambled on, noticing Miss Buhui's lack of response, he sighed, "Miss Buhui, the young master is fixated on the idea that you are his lady. You might think he's insanely unreasonable, but if you have any pity for him, don't keep him hanging. The only hardship he's ever endured in this life is because of you."
At this moment, not only her head throbbed, but Buhui's heart ached as well. Mo Beichen, the favored son of heaven, had everything he could want in the Imperial Capital, yet he hit a brick wall with her.
"Uncle Zhou, the bond between him and me is over."
Uncle Zhou looked up at the rearview mirror, observing Buhui's unmoved expression. He shook his head and stopped advising; sometimes those involved are confused, while bystanders see clearly.
No matter how others try to reconcile them, there's no mending their conflict. Why waste words?
