Late at night, in the bedroom.
Qiao Ruoxin lay on the dark green bedsheet, wrapped in a dark green blanket, her body embraced by a man.
This damn man had fallen into a deep sleep, but she was wide awake with insomnia.
Her head was filled with Mo Chen's words from earlier that night, saying she didn't love him.
It felt as if he was brainwashing her.
Two years ago, her mother had done the same, claiming she was too young and naive, insisting she had no understanding of love.
So... what really is love?
Her slender fingers touched the man's high, proud nose, while a dense, prickling pain filled her heart.
Did she truly not love Mo Chen?
If she didn't love him, why had she given him all of her firsts?
Qiao Ruoxin found herself lost in confusion and conflict.
That night, she suffered from insomnia and finally understood Master Mo's agony—insomnia was truly unbearable.
Early morning, seven o'clock.
