"Ah Yang!"
Seeing the wounds on my face and hands, Zhao Yihan's heart ached so much she was almost in tears, gripping my hand and full of remorse, "Xu Haipeng, that bastard, how could he hit people!"
"He's fooling around with other women at school and still blames me! Ah Yang, I'm sorry, this has dragged you into trouble!"
"It's nothing! Doesn't hurt at all!"
I smiled at her, feigning ease.
Seeing her concern made me a bit happy. After this incident, my position in her heart would become more important.
"It looks so scary, and you say it doesn't hurt?"
She said with pity as she looked at the wounds on the back of my hand.
"What's this? It doesn't hurt!"
I took the opportunity to grab her small hand and pulled her into my embrace—so fragrant, so soft! She did not resist, and even hugged me tighter.
"Ah Yang, this weekend, he came looking for me again, wanted to book a room with me, but I didn't agree! I've said it, I am saving myself for you!"
