The girl's complexion and lips were equally pale, a clear layer of fear spreading in the depths of her eyes.
She lowered her eyes to look at him and asked, "Zhan Moxiao, are you serious?"
Zhan Moxiao still sat elegantly on the sofa. He looked up at the girl's pale face and, to be honest, his heart ached again, even though the full moon had not set completely and his body was still suffering from the disease, he became soft-hearted once more.
The affection for the girl was like a cool spring of water, contending with the demonic fire in his heart.
He watched her quietly for a while, afraid of scaring her.
But suddenly, the scene of her date with Lin Feng, and those sweet chat messages, once again assaulted his brain, and so he turned cold again.
He said, "Yes."
