In the Xiao Family's courtyard, there were six different-sized vegetable fields, and Xiao Qinghe was assigned the two in the front yard.
On the day for choosing an auspicious marriage date, Tao Meijiao had also wanted to join the bustling activity in the yard. However, seeing Xiao Qinghe's pale, handsome face and his desolate expression, she knew he was in pain and chose not to leave her room. Instead, she stayed by his side, saying with sympathy, "She's going to get married. You should give up."
"Miss Tao, clinging to me is meaningless for you," he said, his gaze fixed on Su Qingyue's figure in the courtyard.
Her tone slightly harsh, she countered, "Does pining for her mean anything to you then?"
"That's my business, and it has nothing to do with you."
"Xiao Qinghe, what's past cannot be undone," she said, reaching out to turn his head toward her. "Look at me; I'm the one in front of you right now."
He brushed her hand away irritably, "Miss Tao, your feelings are one-sided."