"Don't scare the little girl."
Jiang Jiamian rolled his eyes at Ling Zhuang, catching the subtle shift in his expression.
He knew perfectly well Ling Zhuang bore no real ill will toward Jiang Qing. On the contrary, the pervert seemed strangely indulgent of her. Perhaps it was love me, love my kin, or perhaps it was something else. Either way, Jiang Qing was one of the rare few Ling Zhuang did not treat with complete disdain.
Three people, one car, Ling Zhuang made no attempt to hide his possessiveness toward Jiang Jiamian. Every word, every look dripped with subtle mockery of the apocalypse. Yet when it came to Jiang Qing, he at least spared her the suffocating disguise he used on the others.
That alone proved something: in his own twisted way, Ling Zhuang had accepted her into their circle of three.
"How could I scare a little girl?" Ling Zhuang's lips curved in a faint smile. "After all, your sister is my sister."
Jiang Jiamian: "…"
