Yan Xinxin was completely stunned!
Mo Chuxi didn't know when he had entered, but he was now standing right in front of her.
He pulled out a bouquet of champagne-colored roses from behind him—judging by the count, it appeared to be 88 roses, just like before.
Her heart raced uncontrollably.
"Mo Chuxi, you…"
"Yan Xinxin, marry me."
"..."
What the hell?
So, is this an official proposal? But isn't a proposal supposed to involve asking something like, 'Will you marry me?' How is he so domineering?
"Take it."
Mo Chuxi placed the bouquet into Yan Xinxin's arms before she could refuse, then reached for the ring inside the music box and knelt down by the bed.
Yan Xinxin was completely dumbfounded, staring blankly as Mo Chuxi took her left hand and slid the ring onto her middle finger.
Middle finger?
Why the middle finger?
She was puzzled, but Mo Chuxi lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.
The tenderness in his actions felt almost dreamlike.
