She was so choked up that she couldn't even cry, "I don't want..."
Wen Yangzhi pulled a best-seller from the latest carton of books, his deep, cool voice ringing in her ear, intimate and eager, unusually gentle:
"Is it this one?"
She shook her head furiously.
He then crisply pulled out a limited edition collector's item. The action was so neat and careless that it creased one of its corners, and he glanced at her sideways, "Or is it this one?"
She sobbed without control, "It's not, I don't want any of them."
Wen Yangzhi casually set that book down and spoke to her earnestly, refusing to brush her off just because she was throwing a tantrum, "If you don't tell me, how will your brother know which one you want?"
The more she thought about it, the more unlucky she felt, reaching to wipe away her tears, tears that kept flowing embarrassingly, wailing:
"I don't want the comic."
