"... Baby?"
Zhang Fengxi extended a hand at Qiao Wei out of concern, but he quickly retracted his hand when Qiao Wei's sword shot forward, its tip settling at a mere hair's breadth from Zhang Fengxi's throat.
"Does it entertain you to make fun of me?" Qiao Wei asked with a trembling voice.
Zhang Fengxi met his eyes with an unwavering gaze.
"... No, Baby, of course not."
"Must you flirt with Meng Xiyan as soon as I take my eyes off you?"
"... Jianbao..."
"Whenever I reject your advances, you feel entitled to go and find others to make me jealous. I hate it! You are horrible, Fengxi!"
Qiao Wei had craved a single tear of regret, a crimson flush of shame on Zhang Fengxi's face -- anything to extinguish the scorching pain in his heart.