Chen Mo thought that once he had money, he would make up for his past regrets.
But for now, he was just a part of someone else's regrets. Lew Qingyi took the initiative to clean Chen Mo up, not because it was enjoyable per se, but because the rush of hormones made her intoxicated—and this time she had poured her feelings into the role-play.
There was no need for deliberate dialogue; it was just a feeling.
Lew Qingyi washed her face and surprisingly changed into a youthful plaid skirt, even tying her hair into braids.
She spun around modestly before Chen Mo, "Do I look good? This is what I used to wear at school. It's different from what you imagined, right? My family wouldn't allow me to show off at school."
"You look good. You must have had a lot of admirers, right?"
"Back in school? Of course, I even picked one. But after walking around the courtyard holding hands, he didn't dare to see me the next day."
