Qiao Mo was still a bit sleepy at this moment, as if sensing his disappointment, she raised her eyes and softly asked, "What's wrong?"
"Why didn't you say you don't like eating fish?"
Qiao Mo was slightly stunned, lowered her eyes and gently said, "Would it make a difference if I said it? You said before that you don't like being rejected..."
His heart constricted, in that instant, his eyes inexplicably filled with a sour sensation.
After placing the water glass in her hand, he got up from the bed.
For the first time, he turned his back to her.
Qiao Mo drank a few sips of water and then snuggled back into the quilt. As she turned her head, she saw the scars on his back.
He had casually draped one corner of the quilt over himself. The wounds from the last time at the horse ranch had mostly healed, leaving those perpetual scars glaring openly in the air.
Qiao Mo was a bit dazed, involuntarily reached out her fingers to gently touch them.
"Does it still hurt?"
