Although Qiao An had never thought about being with Mu Jingxi, this statement still irked her for a moment.
What does 'destined' mean?
So certain, where does her confidence come from?
"You're very confident," Qiao An said with a curl of her lips, a barely detectable disdain in her tone as it flowed smoothly.
Lin Shuangshuang stood up straight and went into the kitchen.
Before long, Mu Jingxi came down from upstairs.
His pace was unhurried, his expression stern, and his gaze carried a sharp glint.
"Let's go."
He came up to Qiao An, pulled her to her feet, and headed outside.
The air seemed to carry the scent of blood.
Qiao An frowned, "Are you bleeding?"
Her sensitivity to scents was high, especially when close to him; she quickly sensed something amiss.
The black shirt on his back was sticky, clinging to his skin.
The hand gripping her wrist suddenly tightened, and Mu Jingxi led her quickly away.
All the way, Qiao An's mind was filled with confusion.
