The domineering aura was palpable; the warm gentleman before her seemed nothing more than an illusion.
This was the real Mu Liang.
Bloodstained the white sweater, and Qiao Xia's gaze fell into his eyes.
In his eyes, she saw her own bewildered reflection.
He stood before her, seemingly awaiting her judgement. Now that he had exposed his most bloody, violent, and true self to her for the first time, what would she think?
Because of the terrorist attack years ago, his girl had an immense aversion to violence.
Violence had torn her family apart.
"Let's go home," Qiao Xia said, her eyebrows curving ever so slightly, her smile as bright and beautiful as when he first saw her.
It was tinged with a hint of composure and understanding.
Mu Liang's heart softened tremendously at that moment.
His heart skipped a beat.
After he had revealed the side of himself that she despised the most, Qiao Xia said, let's go home.
To him, it sounded like the sweetest music.
