Life always passed quickly in the midst of a fight.
Nangong Lengyu had returned home for the winter break.
Standing in the empty dormitory, she felt like something was missing. She pushed open her door. Her scent still lingered in the room, making her heart feel much more at ease.
At this time, she should have already gotten off the plane.
Huo Ci sent her a message: "Pretty boy, are you home? Has my fiancée picked you up?"
Ten seconds.
The pretty boy was dead. Why didn't he reply to his message?
One minute.
The pretty boy might not have gotten off the plane yet. Maybe the plane was late.
Five minutes.
That bastard pretty boy must have already slept with his fiancée and forgotten about him.
Ten minutes.
F*ck, the pretty boy must have deliberately not replied to his message.
Thirty minutes.
Had the pretty boy had an accident? A plane crash? A hijacking?
