Qingyi, if he was honest with himself, had always carried a heavy burden of guilt toward Nianxue.
She had been born confused, cast into a strange world, with a mission she didn't even understand herself.
And he had hurt her. He had torn at her skin and flesh, broken her bones.
Of all his wives, Nianxue was the one who had suffered the most at his hands, right up until the moment he finally realized she was just an innocent girl—a newborn in a cruel world, too pure to understand her own existence.
Even now, Qingyi still felt a stubborn ache in his chest over everything he had done to her, over how much he had hurt her.
No matter how much love he gave her, that pain never truly went away. But deep down, he thought that was a good thing.
Feeling that pain meant that, somewhere inside, he was still human.
Well, metaphorically speaking, of course. But that hardly mattered.
He had already taken Nianxue to see many places, and he wanted to show her even more.
