Mu Qian looked at the tear-stained face of Ji Ziling, his expression as usual, still somewhat indifferent, only his voice was less harsh. He asked her, "What should I know?"
Facing such a Mu Qian, Ji Ziling bit her lip tightly, her voice tinged with sobs, "You know, don't you? You've just been pretending not to know, haven't you, Brother Mu?"
Facing the pitiful Ji Ziling, Mu Qian showed no emotion, "I don't know, and I don't understand what you're talking about, Ziling, don't play riddles with me."
"I like you, Brother Mu I like you, I like you."
Ji Ziling repeated several times, her voice loud, almost bellowing, "I like you."
The last one pressed down the high-decibel music of the bar.
Many people looked in their direction, only to see Ji Ziling stand up from her chair, swipe the wine glasses and fruit plate from the table, and stand on it disregarding her image, she shouted at the man sitting beside the table, "Brother Mu, I like you, I have liked you for a very long time."
