The house was cold and quiet, the stove untouched, and the fridge was empty.
The once somewhat crowded home suddenly felt unusually spacious.
Zhu Zhihua covered her mouth and coughed lightly, her throat itching unbearably. But now, there was no one to silently place a glass of water within her reach.
She got up, opened the lid of the hot water bottle, and poured herself a cup of water, but the water had long since lost its warmth.
The incessant ringing of the phone irritated her to no end.
After hesitating for a moment, she finally answered the call.
Wan Shimin felt like things were slipping beyond his control. He had intentionally given Zhu Zhihua the cold shoulder, and according to his understanding of her, she must be feeling extremely anxious by now.
This would only cause her to put pressure on her daughter, following the path he had laid out for her.
When they were younger and dating, this tactic had been very effective on her.