Yan Sijue picked up the fork, seemingly very expectant: "Yiliang, you know I love the pasta you make the most."
"Mm..." She gave a small smile, sat down opposite him, looked at her own plate, and picked up the fork.
The man across from her had already mixed his pasta, ready to pick up a strand and put it in his mouth.
Mu Yiliang felt her heart racing! It felt as if it could jump out of her chest at any moment!
Suddenly, she closed her eyes, not daring to look any longer! She kept silently chanting in her heart; she must kill him! She must kill him!
However, in the end, she involuntarily opened her eyes and saw the man's extremely handsome profile.
Even the way he ate was so elegant and pleasing to the eye.
Mu Yiliang suddenly felt a coolness on her cheeks. She reached out to touch lightly, only to find... icy tears on her fingers.
Why was she crying?
She stared blankly at the watermarks on her fingertips, the sorrow in her heart surging even more.
