Qian Chen looked into those dim eyes of Ya Ran, and he dared not be certain about anything.
Qian Chen lowered his head, gazing at Ya Ran's hand tightly grasping his own.
On that hand, there were scars left from injuries, protruding more than the ordinary skin, carrying a cruel kind of tragic beauty.
Ya Ran seemed to sense something, like a startled rabbit, gripping Qian Chen's hand even tighter, lightly shaking her head: "I don't want to go abroad… Qian Chen, I want to be with you—"
Qian Chen's eyes instantly became moist, but he quickly shut them, forcing that warmth back in. When he opened them again, only calmness remained.
Slowly, he peeled Ya Ran's hand off his own, inch by inch, as though with every inch pushed away, a crack tore open in his heart, making him forget even to breathe due to the pain.
Finally, he completely pushed Ya Ran's hand away and then turned to Cui Hao: "I'll go back with you all!"
Without looking at Ya Ran's expression again.
