Stop talking, stop talking!
He could hardly bear it anymore.
The dull pain in his heart was like being cut by a knife.
He breathed heavily, a thin layer of cold sweat forming on his forehead.
The soft body beneath him, in an instant, was no longer soft, but had turned into magma, scorching his skin, his flesh.
Consuming his very soul.
Clumsily rising from her, in the dark, she couldn't see his bloodshot eyes or the overwhelming regret in them, she could only hear his heavy breathing, like he was having a heart attack, every breath of air was exceptionally precious.
Slowly sitting up, she adjusted her clothes, "Mu Jingnan, I've said all that I wanted to say, you should leave. From now on, don't appear in front of me anymore. I'll say it again, there's no possibility for us. Stop dreaming."
"What if... Yao Wangshu wasn't in the picture?"
