"How come you're here at this time?"
"And Yu Yanshen? Weren't you taken away by him? How could he possibly let you be here, did something happen to him?"
"Weren't you sick? What on earth did you come back for? Yao Qing, don't tell me you—"
Yao Qing suddenly stopped in her tracks, her body covered in cold sweat. This man had little to say before, but now he was chattering like someone with a stomach ache—constantly farting without pause.
"Can't you speak less? Will you die if you do? Why are there so many 'whys'? I came to rescue you. Are you blind or just ungrateful?"
Her voice was husky yet resounding.
Yao Qing thought that given Fu Moyi's stubborn temperament, he would certainly continue to ramble on.
But after her words fell, she didn't hear Fu Moyi say anything for a long time. She glanced back at him and saw that he was just looking down, deep in thought about something.
Yao Qing didn't think much of it and simply continued walking forward.
