Ye Che was sitting on the sofa, his eyes gently resting on him, waiting for her answer.
His expression was so calm and undisturbed, at times giving the illusion of tranquil, good times.
But in the depths of his eyes, there seemed to be a fire beneath an iceberg, outwardly cool and aloof, yet internally churning with waves.
Ye Che had waited a long time, but Xia Weiyi remained silent, her silence serving as her admission.
Ye Che then laughed, he lifted his hand to rub his nose bridge, and no one saw the tear at the corner of his eye, which he stealthily wiped away.
After lowering his hand, he began to chuckle bitterly, his voice carrying a broken tone, "Since you've already decided to go back to his side, why bother to come and see me one last time?"
"Mr. Ye, Weiyi and I came to inform you. And rest assured, Weiyi—I will make her happy," Xu Zhiye interjected, his tone couldn't have been more smug.