Qin Mu's thin lips were pressed into a cold, resolute line.
His sculpted facial features hugged an aura of sternness, and the strong masculine presence enveloped An Lin in front of him.
The large hand gripping her wrist showed no signs of loosening.
He disregarded An Lin's words as if they were just wind past his ears.
Thus, they were at an impasse.
The atmosphere turned icy, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.
An Lin's eyes, staring at Qin Mu, were filled with annoyance.
Compared to the storm in her eyes, the look in Qin Mu's eyes was icy and piercing.
"An Lin, I will try my best to like you," Qin Mu eventually broke the silence. On hearing his words, An Lin suddenly felt a pang in her nose and her eyes moistened.
She averted her eyes, refusing to look at Qin Mu or let him see her eyes.
Her lips tightly pressed together, she struggled to control her emotions.
