So Su Lu really didn't know what to say, and besides, matters of the heart have always been such, like drinking water—only the drinker knows whether it's cold or warm.
Others' words are useless, and too much talk is just empty comfort.
It's like the situation between her and Bo Jingshen—if others only know a part of the story, not understanding the complexity, then they would just think she's spineless, too weak, willing to give him another chance after being hurt so badly.
To outsiders, it might seem like handing the executioner a knife, letting him hurt her again.
But love doesn't have a standard to measure by, no units to weigh it with. It's not like I love you a pound and you only love me eight ounces, so I'm not worth it.
Worth is only seen in the eyes of others—whether he owes you or you owe him.
