"I've waited for you for three hours."
"My hand is numb, I've smoked all my cigarettes, and the wind has given me a headache."
Yao Qing heard Yu Yanshen say this.
The dark clouds had dissipated, and the moonlight stealthily climbed out.
Through the mottled leaves, it scattered onto Yu Yanshen's brows and eyes.
Yao Qing didn't have any particular thoughts in her mind at the moment, but for an instant, she felt that his facial features were really handsome.
They were profound, but not to the extent of a foreigner's; they seemed plain but carried an intense, masculine charm.
"So, don't be mad at me, okay?"
He reached out to touch her soft cheek, leaning forward slightly, his eyes deep and thick.
Like a boiling sea.
As their eyes met, Yao Qing distinctly felt the cold on her face.
It was very cold, as cold as a block of ice.
She lifted her clear and handsome brows to look at her, her eyes misty.
She reached out and pulled his hand away from her face.
"I'm not angry."
