Mo Chen strode over to the sofa and sat down, assuming a posture of cold indifference as he waited for the clock to strike midnight.
"I remember now!"
She suddenly recalled hearing a woman's moans that night.
When she went next door to argue, the man's voice inside sounded all too familiar.
"That night, I knocked on the door of the room next to mine, you were staying inside, weren't you?"
The man glanced at her silently then pulled out a cigarette, placed it between his lips, and lit it with a lighter.
Smoke swirled around, blurring his handsome features.
Disdain flashed in Qiao Ruoxin's eyes: "Mo Chen, you're so perverted..."
He glanced at his wristwatch again and said in a deep voice, "Last minute."
"..."
Qiao Ruoxin sat on the opposite sofa, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room quieted down.
In those sixty seconds, Ruoxin's mind was a battlefield, unable to determine a victor.
In the final second, the man stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray.
