Some things suddenly took root in her heart with a decision, and she didn't know why, but after figuring it out, she suddenly felt a sense of urgency, an urgency to share everything about herself.
She was naturally alert and instinctively guarded herself. But he was different; he was the one she most wanted to trust and be intimate with.
Qiao Xiaren briefly tidied herself up, grabbed her bag, and went out.
"Is this for me?"
Qiao Xiaren accepted the roses he handed her and smiled, "Honestly, this is only the third time I've received roses."
"Weren't there many people eager to give them to you before?"
From his words, Qiao Xiaren detected a hint of jealousy, and she reached out to hold his palm, "I used to not believe in myself, felt insignificant, deliberately hid myself, and was even self-deprecating and cold, so there weren't many people around me."
Thinking of the past seemed like a different lifetime.
The pains and wounds of those years were like fleeting shadows.
