"You're meeting someone tomorrow,"
Zhou Jin'an said on the other end of the phone.
Zhou Chucheng, anxious to find Xiaolu, asked with confusion, "Who?"
But Zhou Jin'an let out a discordant cold laugh. His tone was as usual, "You'll know when you get there."
In the end, he didn't give Zhou Chucheng the chance to ask any more questions, hung up the phone, and sent him the address.
That night, Zhou Chucheng experienced another long, sleepless night.
The words of Xiaolu began to haunt his ears again, "You can't even protect yourself, so you expect me to be your bodyguard?"
Those words were like a thorn, harshly jabbing his heart.
As a man over 1.8 meters tall, his lack of fistfighting skills really made it hard for him to raise his head in front of Xiaolu.
His artistic cells were not worthy in her eyes.
So how could he win her heart?
The more he thought about it, the less he could sleep, and the less he could sleep, the more he thought.
