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"Afraid of injections?" Beside the bed, Gu Jiangnian helped her sit up and handed her a warm glass of water.
Jiang Muwan did not take it, instead, she drank from his hand.
She then nodded, and afterward, with the most indifferent tone, she uttered the most heart-stopping words, "The old witch pricked me with needles when I was a child."
Jiang Muwan had told many people this story.
But when she recounted it to others, she felt only that she was simply stating a fact, with no excess of peculiar emotion.
There was a sense of the past being nothing more than a cloud that had drifted by, light and breezy.
Yet today, when she casually shared this story with Gu Jiangnian, she unexpectedly felt a bit wronged.
What's more—her eyes slightly reddened.
And what about Gu Jiangnian?
His heart quivered.
The displeasure and fierceness in his expression dissipated, and facing Jiang Muwan's aggrieved look, a part of his heart inexplicably felt empty.
