Mo Hexuan was chilled by his cold tone, and he could hear the genuine anger in his voice. He sat on the ground, touched his nose, cleared his throat lightly, and said nothing.
He indeed had crossed his line, and couldn't blame the other for getting angry. He pushed himself up from the ground, lazily sat on the sofa, yawned and said, "I am just trying to save you from lovesickness. Aren't you happy the pain is eased?"
"..."
Seeing the other's silence, Mo Hexuan lifted his head and asked with interest, "Why don't you meet her? She seems to miss you a lot."
The other remained silent and, after a moment, he reached out with his slender fingers to slowly pinch a wine glass from nearby and drained it in one gulp.
It was easy to see that he, too, was in low spirits. Although his face was masked, his body was shrouded in an aura of pressure.
"The time hasn't come." He said coldly. "Also, she cannot possibly miss me."
