Xia Wanyuan had read so many books and memorized so many poems. She had thought long and hard about the love in the books and had never felt the same way.
But now, hearing Jun Shiling's words from half a world away, Xia Wanyuan's heart felt sour and soft.
It was clearly a negative emotion that made one feel wronged, uncomfortable, and want to cry, but because of Jun Shiling's words, a little laughter made one's heart leak out with a sweet warmth, making one's heart soften.
Xia Wanyuan began to understand why so many scholars had been heartbroken over the word love since ancient times. It was because this thing seemed to have magic power.
It was annoying, memorable, painful, and filled with uncontrollable joy.
"What are you thinking about?" Jun Shiling's gentle voice came with a comforting tone.
"Thinking about you," Xia Wanyuan said bluntly.
