"Ranran, have you been influenced by Cheng Jia?"
In the parking lot.
Mo Xiuchen sat sideways in the driver's seat, his eyes tenderly watching Wen Ran as she bent her head to buckle her seatbelt, his voice spilling from his thin lips, low and warm.
Wen Ran's seatbelt-fastening motion briefly faltered, then continued.
After fastening her seatbelt, she looked up at Mo Xiuchen, and when she met his deep, tender eyes, a warmth suddenly spread through her heart, and she said softly, "Mo Xiuchen, thank you for just now."
Upon hearing this, Mo Xiuchen's handsome eyebrows slightly furrowed, his gaze becoming profound as he looked at the petite woman before him, "Ranran, I'm not angry at Cheng Jia."
Wen Ran's expression was startled.
Mo Xiuchen enunciated each word, his voice low and tender, carrying a beguiling magic, "Ranran, I truly love you."
Wen Ran's mind suddenly seized up.
Earlier, in the mall, although she was touched when she heard that sentence.
