His starry eyes intensely fixed on the beguiling woman, the hidden panic in the depths of her eyes, like a dense forest of needles, stabbed at Qin Muyu.
He had nowhere to hide, nor could he.
He had anticipated that Yang Yuran would react this way, yet his heart still ached faintly, and the sharp pain weighed his breathing down profoundly.
His lashes trembled, his frosty fingertips clenching the steering wheel tightly, but in the next moment, he let go, pressing the button to turn off the car's engine.
"Don't forget the relationship we are supposed to have in public."
His voice was as cold as an icy cavern, as if he was struggling to make a clarification that imprisoned himself and rejected Yang Yuran by a thousand miles.
Yang Yuran sensed his detachment, alleviating her concerns, but a nameless ache and slight discomfort surged within her.
For some reason, Qin Muyu occasionally gave her the impression of a solitary island.
