Hearing her tone filled with such mockery, Mo Shiqian's expression inevitably darkened. "Chi Huan."
"And now you're angry with me, huh?"
Mo Shiqian moved half a meter closer to her, regulating his breathing and softening his tone slightly. "I'm not mad at you, Huanhuan," he said, knowing that women are especially sensitive at such times and that even a slightly inappropriate attitude would only add to his mistakes. "Don't think about all that nonsense; I have nothing to do with her."
Chi Huan looked at him expressionlessly.
Her demeanor was calm, yet sharp like a thin blade, its edge cold and fierce.
Her silence was a clear sign that she was waiting for him to explain.
Unconsciously pinching his brow, the man conveyed the headache he was feeling.
A few seconds later, he moved his thin lips and finally spoke, "Four years ago, I attended a party and drank too much..."
Chi Huan arched an eyebrow and asked coldly, "Do you often drink too much?"
"No."
