Mo Chen extinguished the cigarette butt in the ashtray.
His tone was indifferent and cold-blooded, "Little Ghost, do you know what I was thinking about when I was stuck in the car, unable to move after the accident?"
"..." She shook her head.
He let out a hollow laugh, with a touch of despair in his dark eyes, "I was wondering, if I died just like that, would you cry? Or would you be haunted by my death? In the end, I concluded you wouldn't."
Qiao Ruoxin's eyes filled with shock. Was she really that heartless in Mo Chen's eyes?
"You might be sad for a while, then you would continue with your life and never think of me again. The more I thought about it, the more I hated you. All I had in my mind was the impulse to kill you, so, I had to survive. Only by living could I kill you."
Suddenly, her tears broke free, slowly trailing down her cheeks.
Panic flickered through Mo Chen's dark eyes, and he clasped her slender waist with his large hand, pulling her into his embrace.
