"...Come on, go home with me." Wu Min's voice was unexpectedly tender.
These words were ambiguous, and Zhang Ziwen couldn't help but glance at Mu Qing again out of the corner of his eye. A shade seemed to enter her beautiful eyes, colored with a kind of desperate melancholy, an unspoken misery. It was fleeting, too quick. By the time Zhang Ziwen tried to capture that look, she had returned to normal. She walked away from Fan Lihua's trembling body, directly entering the booth by herself. Perhaps she wanted to escape Zhang Ziwen's gaze, or maybe, in her stubbornness, she didn't want Zhang Ziwen to see her weak side. Her personality was such that she kept her heartache buried deep within...
