"Stop crying, okay? I'll go out now, and when you feel ready to see me, let's talk it out properly, all right?" Bo Yan sighed, his heart ached for her, and he stood up as he spoke.
But Yuran suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm. Bo Yan looked down in confusion, gazing at her with a serious face, "What's wrong?"
Yuran casually wiped away her tears and looked at Bo Yan, "Kneel down."
Bo Yan did as if he were a puppet on her strings, resuming his half-kneeling position to meet her gaze, his eyes full of confusion, not daring to guess more.
The more he guessed, the more he erred.
He was still a man carrying his guilt.
With a knife hanging over his neck, he simply couldn't relax.
