At last, Bai Qingyue dropped his gaze and rubbed his temples with the tip of his long fingers. "Li Meirong, do not do this."
"Do what, Senior Zhu?"
"You purposefully place a barrier of formality when you face strangers that you're wary of, or worse yet, enemies. I am not a stranger. Nor am I your enemy."
Li Meirong looked aside and bit her lower lip. "I don't know what you mean."
Bai Qingyue's voice turned soft and slightly hoarse, as though his throat was dry. He almost sounded hurt, a complete contrast to the lack of expression on his face. "If I could, I would never leave your side. If I thought you would not reject me, I would have told you everything."
