From a distance, Yun Mo saw Qiao Xiaon'an and the others by the river, standing in the shallow moonlight, each operating a flashlight in the cold wind.
Apparently, they were looking for the ring that had been lost for a while.
Once the car stopped, he got out straight away and walked down the wet grassy riverbank without taking off his shoes, taking one step deeper, the next one shallower.
It was a pity that his handmade leather shoes were so cruelly ravaged by the mud.
Qiao Xiaon'an also trembled as she climbed onto the shore, carrying a flashlight. With every step, she was dripping wet.
Until the two of them were within close proximity.
Looking at her dismal state, Yun Mo sighed deeply.
His heart, filled with a mix of sympathy and anger.
"Let's go home." He grabbed her bone-chilling cold hand and immediately turned around.
The small hand in his palm, however, slipped away with a force, "Yun Mo, I'm not going back."
