"Beicheng, I really didn't want it to come to this."
Yan Shuirou let out a soft sigh, her delicate face full of innocence, her eyes brimming with boundless sorrow as her husky voice faltered weakly.
It felt less like a threat and more like the murmurs of a lover.
Li Beicheng seemed to relax his guard as if swayed by this. He took two steps toward her, closing the gap to just within reach, and coaxed, "Then don't do this. For Ya'er's sake, we can take things slowly between us. But first, I need you to tell me—what were you thinking when you kept those pieces of evidence behind my back?"
Yan Shuirou obediently leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her slender fingers habitually brushed against his skin as she murmured in a dreamlike tone, "I felt guilty, I felt regret—I couldn't understand why I was doing it, but I couldn't stop myself."
"I see. You already predicted that this day would come, so you prepared your escape route in advance, didn't you?"
