Without saying another word, Zhou Lin restrained Cheng Zhiwei with one hand and took her mobile phone with the other, swiftly scanning through the chat history. Cheng Zhiwei had replied to several messages out of politeness, her words innocent and pure, but one conversation was strikingly broad, especially when it came to music. The two of them had found common ground, exchanging messages non-stop.
It was probably the reason Cheng Zhiwei clung to her phone without putting it down.
A surge of nameless rage erupted from the depths of Zhou Lin's heart. He sneered with a mocking tone, "Cheng Zhiwei, don't you like Zhou Lin? How come you're already chatting so enthusiastically with another man?"
"You're talking nonsense."
"Am I talking nonsense?" Zhou Lin put the phone in front of Cheng Zhiwei's eyes, "Do you even know him, yet you agreed to go to a concert with him?"
