Until they returned to the guesthouse, Jiang Xingye was sullen. As soon as they entered, he pressed Xu Qinghuan against the door, his dark eyes deep and filled with grievance, looking pitifully at her.
Xu Qinghuan couldn't help but laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her head, "Why are you mad at me? It's not like I provoked you. I'm also a victim, okay? I can't even enjoy my fiancé enough, how could I bear to give him to someone else."
That woman's brain was definitely damaged, the kind that makes Xu Qinghuan feel an inescapable humiliation, even more disgusting than swallowing a fly.
However, since she was a stranger, Xu Qinghuan just regarded it as being barked at by a dog and naturally didn't intend to take it to heart.
"Not mad at you." Jiang Xingye pursed his lips; he simply saw Xu Qinghuan hesitate for a moment, which felt like a stab to his heart.
