She always felt that the palm pressing at the root of her thigh was like an invisible shackle, firmly imprisoning her there.
Leh Ying was at a loss, her hands with nowhere to rest, not knowing what to do, where to go, for fear that he might restrain her even more harshly.
She thought he must have fallen into a deep sleep.
Gently, Leh Ying reached out with her fingertips and secretly traced the man's brow, which was as dark as thick ink.
Indeed, she felt that Xu Jingxi's words were very hurtful, insinuating both openly and covertly that she lacked discretion, yet he didn't skimp on arranging the art exhibition for her, whether as compensation or to bring a clean break. She couldn't find fault with that.
Unconsciously, she murmured softly, "It's my fault, right?"
Xu Jingxi didn't twitch an eyebrow, "I don't deign to discuss forgiveness with someone who has erred."
She asked softly, tentatively, "Then... I'm sorry."
