, Cheng Ming found Song Yuanlin at the bar.

　　In my impression, Song Yuanlin was always a restrained person and rarely drank this much.

　　He insisted on going to the rental house even though he couldn't walk steadily.

　　Cheng Ming had no choice but to compromise.

　　It took a lot of effort to get him onto the bed.

　　The night was late, and he looked at the drunken man and sighed silently, "If I had known what would happen today, why did I do it back then?" I followed them home, and Aqiu saw me and circled around me.

　　She brushed against me, licked me, and reached out her paw to hug me.

　　I playfully tapped Aqiu's little nose as usual and whispered to her.

　　Not long after, Aqiu flipped onto her back.

　　It was originally a very ordinary action, but it seemed different in Song Yuanlin's eyes.

　　He suddenly rushed over, held Aqiu in his arms, and tears fell from his eyes in my shocked gaze.

　　"Do you hate me that much...to only let Aqiu see you?" "Luyang, your heart is so cruel..." "Luyang...Yangyang..." I suddenly felt like laughing.

　　Now that I'm dead, who am I making this appearance for? I floated numbly to the cabinet and watched as sorrow turned into a raging flood, engulfing Song Yuanlin.

　　He continued to repeat that sentence, "Luyang, do you really hate me that much?" I stared blankly at him.

　　Shouldn't I hate him? I should.

　　He trampled on my love and erased my dignity.

　　Just like in the third year of high school, when Song Yuanlin dropped out and my mother had a stroke.

　　I was often locked in the restroom, electrical room, or equipment room.

　　My clothes were frequently soaked, and my hair was cut into a disheveled mess.

　　The male students would take out my sanitary napkins and blatantly stick them on the desk to mock me as the daughter of a mistress.

　　But I truly knew nothing.

　　I had to endure baseless malice and couldn't have the slightest hint of resistance.

　　Since then, I have held resentment towards everyone.

　　But shouldn't Song Yuanlin hate me too? He should.

　　My mother made him lose his happy family.

　　She made him dependent on others and suffer from insomnia.

　　If it were me, I would also hate.

　　Redirecting anger is a human instinct.

　　But what I don't understand is, now that I'm truly dead.

　　I will never appear before him again, reminding him of those sad memories.

　　We will never argue again, never use words that hurt each other's hearts with a ratio of killing a thousand enemies to lose eight hundred.

　　It has come to this point.

　　Song Yuanlin, why are you still sad?