Although he seemed calm, Ye Xingbei could not help but sense his dissatisfaction and loneliness.
She wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know what to say.
Defending his home and nation probably held the same place in Gu Junzhu's heart as music did in hers.
If one day someone told her that she could no longer play the piano, sing or write songs, she would feel as if the sky had turned grey.
Life would not become impossible, but the world, once filled with color, would become gray.
She felt empathy for Gu Junzhu, but there was nothing she could do.
Suddenly, a question came to mind, "How old is your nephew?"
This man was only in his twenties and yet he had a formidable nephew.
How old was his nephew?
Gu Junzhu came back to his senses, "He's the same age as me, two months younger."
Ye Xingbei's mouth twitched, "Uh..."
Gu Junzhu insisted, "Two months younger is still younger! He is younger than me!"
Ye Xingbei: "..."