At this moment, Ye Chen was exactly like Ye Chen that Cheng Anya saw at Old Master Yang's banquet—cold, sinister, acrid, and aggressive. Not a single shred of sweetness could be found in his deep gaze, just a desolate cold.
The evening sky that was dotted with stars suddenly darkened!
As the wind blew at Cheng Anya's hair, it messed it up and a few strands went over her face, blurring her vision. As the moonlight poured out over the cotton and magnolia trees, she thought that the moon tonight was the most beautiful moon she had ever seen in her life!
In a sudden moment, she felt a cold come over her!
How could she have forgotten that the moonlight was cold however beautiful it was? She was exactly in that predicament. As she was bathed in the moonlight, she felt even colder and colder.
'Ye Chen, why are you pushing me out of your heart?'
'Just because of that statement, you have killed the very future we were about to weave together.'
