She paused slightly.
Mo Chen was unable to suppress the boiling rage inside him as he grasped her chin, "Qiao Ruoxin! Is this what you call love, damn it!"
In that instant, her tears began to flow.
Seeing her tears, the angry yet handsome man's face showed a trace of panic.
"You start crying just because I speak sharply to you!"
Still speaking harshly, but he tenderly embraced Qiao Ruoxin, comforting her, "Little Ghost, don't cry, alright?"
But Qiao Ruoxin cried even harder, feeling even more aggrieved.
Even a fine layer of sweat beaded on her smooth forehead.
Mo Chen frowned and lifted her up from the bedroom to the couch on the terrace.
The cool night breeze blew by, making her feel much cooler and more clear-headed.
She sat in the man's arms, looking pitiful with her tear-streaked face resembling a tearful pear blossom.
Crying like a child, she continued to sob incessantly.
