After Qiao Mo went upstairs, it was already close to eleven at night.
Looking at the half-open bedroom door, she suddenly lost the courage to enter.
She couldn't lie on the same bed with this man as if nothing had happened, although maybe twice and thrice, thrice and four times, seemed to make no difference.
Qiao Mo shifted her gaze, turning to look at the guest room on one side.
Fortunately, the guest room door was open, and she didn't hesitate anymore, directly heading towards the guest room and locking the door.
After Fu Nancheng went upstairs, the bedroom was empty.
He walked to the guest room, tried turning the door lock, but the door had already been locked.
Inside the room, hearing his voice, Qiao Mo slowly sat up from the bed, her gaze always fixed in the direction of the door, fingers tightly gripping the quilt, with a hint of unease in her eyes.
She knew that if he insisted on coming in, she wouldn't be able to stop him.
