Shen Qianshu asked, "… Are you telling a love story?"
Not a ghost story?
Not a horror story?
"Yes."
"…" Shen Qianshu was speechless.
Ye Ling stared at her. In those amber eyes, there was a lonely pond. It was unfathomable, and it seemed to be hiding something very deep. It was hard to see and hard to see through.
"Do you think that it is a very simple and normal thing to fall in love?"
The senses of the little angel, who had a strong desire for survival, had not responded, but her body had answered for her honestly as she shook her head.
