He already said he doesn't like me. Was he just being mindful of my drunken self? How could he allow me to walk over him like that with no shred of impatience?
Just as Song Qingchun was confused beyond reason, Su Zhinian, who had been completely quiet while he was writing, suddenly repeat the words that she had just made him write. "Su Zhinian loves Song Qingchun."
The way he read the statement was slow, like he was voicing every syllable as he wrote them down.
The bathroom was silent except for his low, sexy voice and the tapping sound of the lipstick hitting against the wall. Song Qingchun knew he was talking to her, but standing before the sink counter, listening to those words, a warm feeling rushed through her heart, filling it with joy and satisfaction.
Song Qingchun had no idea whether she heard it correctly or not, but she swore Su Zhinian's voice had softened after he finished writing that statement. "Is that enough?"
