"Lu Moqing."
Qiao Xu endured her patience, holding the door frame, preventing Lu Moqing from pushing in, yet not having enough strength to close the door.
Both of them stood there, one inside and one outside, neither of them giving in to the other.
"Let me in."
Lu Moqing's voice carried a hint of hoarseness, as well as some ambiguous emotions mixed in.
"Say whatever you want to say here."
She coldly spoke, deliberately ignoring the deepening blood on the gauze wrapped around his forehead.
"Let me in."
Lu Moqing's voice became colder, and there was a touch of impatience and intolerance in the depth of his eyes.
It was then that Qiao Xu noticed a faint smell of alcohol on Lu Moqing. It wasn't obvious, but it could still be detected upon closer sniffing.
"Did you drink?"
She frowned and couldn't help but ask.
Only because she noticed that the blood on his forehead seemed to have deepened in color.
