The man's voice was dry as he asked, "When did you fall ill?"
Song Chuxue's face was ashen, then she lowered her head, "Does that still matter?"
Her voice was even fainter, as if on the verge of breaking, "I became ill five years ago, have been on medication ever since. Sometimes the condition gets better, sometimes worse.
After I came back, I felt good and didn't have any episodes, until I was slightly provoked later."
Her eyelashes trembled, her sentence trailing off, but Feng Jingxuan understood.
After Song Chuxue came back, she had targeted Nan Xia multiple times; it must have been Nan Xia's provocations. Even if Nan Xia did nothing, with her brooding resentments, trouble would easily occur.
Moreover, he had, this time, nudged it along.
If it were a few hours earlier, Feng Jingxuan would not think there was anything wrong with his actions. Song Chuxue did something wrong, she needed to pay the price, but now he didn't know whether it was right or wrong.