Qiao Xiaomai had given up hope.
He was about to die along with that hope.
His filial piety had caused her such great harm.
He had even caused her world to collapse.
To Qiao Xiaomai, he was such an essential presence.
He was unworthy of this love.
Unworthy.
If Qiao Xiaomai had never met him, Tong Sanlang, she could still have shone brightly across the entire Daqi.
But if Tong Sanlang had not met Qiao Xiaomai, then he would have been just a farmer, a farmer scrutinized and suspected by Yang Wenxiao, destined to toil in the fields for a lifetime. Even with the Prime Minister's support in the Capital City, there would have been no prospects for progress.
That would have been his life.
Before meeting Qiao Xiaomai, his world was grey. It was Qiao Xiaomai who painted his world with color, Qiao Xiaomai who let him experience the beauty of love.
It was Qiao Xiaomai who bridged the gap between him and Yang Wenxiao.
Without Qiao Xiaomai, he, Tong Sanlang, would be nothing.