Li Sihe thought that his understanding of Bian Yue's true nature was like looking at flowers through the fog, lacking much straightforwardness.
Bian Yue was far more heartless than he had imagined.
But six years ago, during the continuous rain in Xiangjiang, when Bian Yue was led by him into the Li Family's hall, she appeared so fragile and helpless.
Under the bright lights as white as daylight, she looked up at him, her eyes as bright as the daylight distinctly different from the rainy weather outside, she asked, "How is your name written?"
He then asked someone to bring over some paper, holding the girl's hand, he wrote down "Li Sihe" stroke by stroke on the well-prepared rice paper in tiny regular script.
"This is how it is written." He looked down at Bian Yue, the young girl was learning seriously, her expression solemn, so his face softened and he said in a gentle voice, "If you encounter anything in the future, tell me, I will take care of you."
