An Lan instinctively took two steps back. It was only then that she noticed Xiao Yihe's grating voice—hoarse, as if his throat was injured. His tone, once decent, now sounded torturous to the ear.
"Xiao Yihe, what on earth are you trying to do? There are surveillance cameras all around here." An Lan calmed herself slightly, raising her head to glance at the surveillance camera across from them, its red light still glowing.
"Lanlan, rest assured, I won't harm you. I wouldn't have the heart to hurt you. You know this—I've never been able to steel myself against you." Under the icy lenses of Xiao Yihe's glasses, it was impossible to discern the emotions in his eyes. His pretense of tenderness made An Lan feel nauseous.
