Qiao Ruoxin leaned into the man's embrace, and once the Lu sisters had left, her tears abruptly stopped as easily as turning off a tap, her emotions at her command—a testament to an actor's self-discipline.
"They're gone, no need to pretend anymore." The man released the Little Ghost in his embrace.
Qiao Ruoxin speared a small piece of roasted lamb with her fork and put it into her mouth, nodding, "Mmm, it's delicious, do you want some?"
She speared another piece of meat and offered it to the man's thin lips, which he accepted in one bite.
Mo Chen raised his hand and wiped away the tear stains on her cheek, his voice deep, "Did you really hit her?"
"Mmm... Do you think I'm cruel?"
She had glanced at Lu Xingxing's face just now, which was swollen like a pig's head, probably needing a whole night of icing to reduce the swelling.
"Why did you hit her?" The man's tone was devoid of emotion, cool and indifferent.
