After sending a thank you, Zhang Xinwan just stared at her chat window with Mu Lingyun, remaining silent for a long time.
She hadn't expected that when she was wronged, the person who stood up for her wasn't the good friend she had thought of before, but Mu Lingyun, whom she had previously disliked.
"Yong, do you think I'm really awful? When I encounter problems, none of those so-called friends are willing to help me. Instead, it's Mu Lingyun—the one I always disliked—who helped me in the end," Zhang Xinwan asked as she turned to Feng Yong.
"Am I not your friend?" Feng Yong rolled his eyes, somewhat displeased.
"Of course, you are," Zhang Xinwan suddenly smiled, "I meant people other than Yong."
In her heart, Feng Yong was not just a friend; he was more like family.
The girl had chestnut-colored long wavy hair, and when she pondered issues, she liked to subconsciously twist a strand of her hair.
When she felt she had done something wrong, she tended to bite her lower lip.
