"…"
"…"
Xiaoguo watched as he reached for her dress with the same hand that he was using to dig his nose. Unable to take it anymore, she slapped him.
"Slap…"
A crisp sound rang through the clouds.
—-
"My heart aches for you."
Jiang Danhe rubbed Xiaoguo's right hand that looked flushed, and sighed sympathetically for the umpteenth time.
"I'm fine."
Xiaoguo retracted her hand helplessly. There were so many people on the streets, but Jiang Danhe didn't seem to feel shy or awkward.
Jiang Danhe wasn't bothered at all. He held her small hand again and placed it on his chest, before massaging it with his big hands.
"Does it still hurt?"
"It doesn't hurt at all." Xiaoguo looked behind her in frustration. Then, she turned around and said gently to him, "They have turned red from washing. It was not because of the slap. How could it possibly hurt?"
