An Yin, as she spoke, gradually felt something was off.
Her face, hidden behind the mask, turned scarlet. She bashfully lowered her head, her small mouth pouting high, presenting a charmingly coy demeanor.
However, Meng Heming couldn't see the young girl's face; he could only gauge her emotions through her bright and beautiful eyes. Seeing her silent and with her head down, he felt as though the air around him had thinned, as if something was missing from his heart.
"Why stop talking?" Meng Heming's stern face showed a hint of indifference.
Hearing the man's words, An Yin felt a sense of blockage in her heart.
Is he annoyed by her chatter? An Yin's face looked even more displeased, and she said fiercely, "I'm finished talking."
Meng Heming slowly turned his head and saw the young girl blinking her autumn-like eyes. He said in a deep voice, "It's almost New Year's, and you're out playing alone?" Seeing her look of disinterest, Meng Heming tried to change the topic.
