"Mmm... Jiaojiao surely will!"
A glimmer of light appeared in Liang Shaochen's eyes, but gradually dimmed.
His handsome, thin face turned pale and bloodless.
Nangong Zhongli regained his senses and noticed his abnormal complexion.
He quickly held his hand and said, "Shaochen, what's wrong? Is your head hurting again?"
Liang Shaochen extended his hand to support his head.
A sharp pain struck him, and he slightly furrowed his brows.
However, the pain in his head was not even a tenth of the pain in his heart.
He curled his lips, and his long eyelashes drooped.
"Let's go back, I'm tired."
"Alright... Driver, let's go!"
Zhongli smiled and said, "Next Christmas, we'll be able to join in!"
In the distance, a chorus of cheers could be heard, each shout louder than the last.
But each cheer felt like an invisible blade, fiercely slicing his heart.
Qiqi...
Did I show up too late? Do you no longer need me?
