Jiang Pinhao stared at the girl whose emotions were in turmoil, the usually clear and refined look in his eyes now tainted with severity, as he forcefully clasped her shoulders, firmly quelling her agitated struggle:
"Enough, Anya! This is Xiaoyi's choice. What you need to do now is support her, not regret or blame. Huo Zhenyang knew Xiaoyi before, no matter what, he won't treat her poorly!"
Liang Anya's heightened emotions inexplicably calmed down; in that moment, she trusted this man profoundly.
She stopped crying and sobbed once, "Okay, I'll listen to Teacher Jiang."
Liang Anya's slender arm curled up, her cheek rubbed against his chest, conveniently sweeping her tears and snot all at once... onto the man's pristine shirt collar.
Jiang Pinhao was caught between laughter and tears at her actions, somewhat anxious, "Anya, using your teacher's shirt as a rag like this, is that really okay?"
Hmph, what's wrong with it? It's not like it can't be washed.
