"It's nothing," Lu Jing answered crisply.
But his expression didn't look like it was nothing.
This guy really is stubborn as a mule.
Zhang Lingying prided herself on not being close to him and having no interest in his private matters. Seeing that he wouldn't speak, she didn't ask more, sitting quietly by his side.
After a while, remembering the book she had set down earlier, she reached out, picked it up, and continued reading.
In the living room, the atmosphere became a bit strange.
Lu Jing's facial wounds had been treated, but his spirit didn't seem much better. He sat on the sofa with his eyes slightly downcast.
Zhang Lingying sat not far from him, seriously reading her book.
The only sounds were the occasional breathing and the rustling of pages...
No one spoke.
No one knew how long it had been, but once sure Zhang Lingying wouldn't take the initiative to engage with him, Lu Jing finally raised his eyes slowly and glanced in her direction.
