A feeling of dead embers reigniting suddenly swept over his body and soul; he gazed, a bit crazily elated, at that tear-streaked, stunningly beautiful face.
His resolute voice was laced with an unusual stubbornness, "Wanwan, come back with me. I'll take care of everything. Trust me!"
Su Wanxia's tear-filled eyes looked at Mu Yingchen, whose face was a portrait of resolve, handsomely ethereal like a deity.
If possible---she truly did not want to leave this place, did not want to leave him, but—some issues, in the end, she had to resolve herself, such as: the grandfather she was about to meet, and the tangled, complex grudges between her parents and his parents, she had a responsibility to sort out all these matters clearly.
Standing at the side, Su Ran, holding a gun aimed at Mu Yingchen, furrowed his brow almost imperceptibly, his expression as indifferent as plum blossoms blooming in winter.
