The phone call Ye Nanqing made to her was undoubtedly a fuse, and now, Jun Jinyan was on the verge of exploding - even if his expression was indifferent but cold now.

Pursing her somewhat dry lips, Xia Qi replied, "I don't feel anything." ”

"Really?" His eyes narrowed slightly.

She didn't avoid his gaze, half-raised her head, looking straight back at him.

The eyes of the two sides met in mid-air. After a while, he finally took the lead in half-lowering his eyes, "Okay, I believe it." I said uh, but whatever you say, I believe it. ”

Inexplicably, when Jun Jinyan said this, Xia Qi did not feel relieved, but felt as if his chest was pressed by something, heavy and uncomfortable.

"Do you really believe what I say?" She blurted out.

"Yes." He took her hand and placed it on his left chest, where the heart was.

The palm of her hand, feeling the speed of his heartbeat.

"I will believe what you say, even if it is false, I will believe it."

It seemed that breathing had become difficult, and she looked at him in a daze, "Don't you ask me what the relationship between Ye Nanqing and me is?" It seems that from the beginning to the end, he did not take the initiative to ask her, and she did not explain.

His eyes were deep and misty, like a silent abyss, without a trace of ripples, "There's no need, because what I want is what you want now and in the future, and all you want is me." ”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Her heart was beating rhythmically, and her brain, which was a mess just now, suddenly became clear.

Her ears could hear every word he said clearly, the sound of his breathing, and the sound of her own heartbeat.

The right hand that was close to her chest was extremely hot, as if announcing something.

Slowly, Xia Qi raised his left hand and gently stroked Jun Jinyan's neck. His eyes were slightly raised, as if he was a little surprised. But her body didn't make any movement, but quietly, letting her fingers move down his neck, to his jaw, cheeks...... The most rearly reached the forehead.

She ruffled his forehead and looked at the scar on his forehead in silence. That's his wound - because of her words.

From childhood to adulthood, a proud son like him, only he hurts others, how could anyone hurt him! I'm afraid that the scars on his body can be counted on his fingers, but now there is one more.

"Do you have any regrets?" She asked, muttering.

"What?" He raised his eyebrows.

"If you hadn't listened to my words not to fight at every turn, maybe you wouldn't have been hurt by this." She said.

He looked at her steadily, and suddenly pulled down her left hand, "What do I regret for nothing?" It's not a question, but a rhetorical question, as if to tell her clearly how redundant her question is.

So, he doesn't regret it at all!

I don't regret listening to her, I don't regret suffering this injury.

"Like me?" She asked abruptly.

And the answer is almost yes.

"Hmm." He responded, without the slightest hesitation.

"What do you like?" Since she was a child, she didn't have anything extraordinary, and when she first met him at the age of 6, she was even more ordinary. Like so many six-year-old girls, there is nothing special about it, at most, it is wilder than other little girls, playing with sand, mud, and even fighting with some little boys.