Gu Zhiwei finally wavered.
When she looked up, she saw the ocean blue eyes of Lance, filled with a gentle affection that could engulf her.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she hurriedly hung up the phone, asking in a fluster, "When did you come?"
"Just now." Lance took two steps forward and suddenly leaned forward.
In the drizzling rain of the early morning, the air was cold. But because of his sudden approach, it suddenly felt warm.
Just as Gu Zhiwei was about to step back, a light shawl was draped over her shoulders: "It's raining, and your injury shouldn't catch a chill."
In the span of three seconds, Lance retreated, the air returned to its chill, but Gu Zhiwei's heart was pounding wildly, losing its rhythm.
She bit her lip, raising her hand to hold the shawl tightly.
"Don't squeeze it too hard, it will hurt." Lance seemed a bit angry, "You woman, always failing to take good care of yourself."
