Li Qingshen gazed at her, his lips moving slightly, his tone certain, "Between the two of us, it has always only been about whether you want me or not."
"And I," he had never thought of not wanting her.
This was completely opposite to what she had anticipated.
He had actually said that he wanted her.
Even as she was now, he still wanted her.
Ling Momo felt a mix of pain, sweetness, and an indescribable excitement at the bottom of her heart. Her lips moved, trembling, but she couldn't squeeze out a single word for a long time.
Li Qingshen reached out his hand, lightly stroking her long hair, his gaze deeply fixed on her lovely face, thinking that his desire for her was not a recent whim, but had spanned a long eleven years.
In those year after year, Li Qingshen had loved Ling Momo.
It had taken root deep within his blood; how could he not want her just because she had loved another man or been with another man?
