Not speaking...
"Damn it, who the hell is it?"
Still, no one spoke...
He got out of bed, despondently fastened his belt, pulled over the military blanket to cover the woman, and walked over in a fury to yank open the tent flap.
Outside the tent, Yi Anran's innocent eyes were fixed on him, with her lips puckered in grievance and an expression of utter pitifulness that contrasted sharply with her appearance.
"Liehuo, you, you don't want me anymore... I, I also called you Brother Huo... You, want me, right?"
Yi Anran squeezed her empty fingers in confusion.
The man in front of her had eyes as sharp as an eagle's, exuding a fierce aura of killing intent, as always, he still disliked being touched by women.
This side of him, both strange and familiar, was precisely his unique allure.
But the girl on the march bed—
