An Lin instinctively leaned back.
Putting some distance between herself and Qin Mu.
Listening to his explanation, she pretended to be indifferent and laughed, "What did I misunderstand about you?"
"An Lin."
Qin Mu felt very depressed, like something was stuck in his chest.
He disliked An Lin's feigned indifference, even more so her misunderstanding him, not trusting him.
He finally understood what it was like to be misunderstood, especially by someone he liked.
At the same time, Qin Mu became even more certain of his feelings for An Lin. It wasn't just responsibility, it was liking, truly liking her.
It seemed, more than he thought.
After brewing in his mind for a few seconds, he gently said, "I didn't answer Tang Yang earlier because I felt it wasn't necessary."
"An Lin, look me in the eyes." Seeing An Lin picking up a pen to play with absentmindedly, selectively ignoring his words, Qin Mu's expression turned serious.
