The man's suppressed voice, controlled, sounded above her head, "I have something to say to you."
"Let go."
Qiao An's face was cold, her gaze even chillier without a hint of warmth.
"Let's talk."
Right now, not to mention talking to him, just seeing his face made Qiao An feel physically disgusted.
As soon as she saw his face, images of him with Han Xintong would pop into her mind.
Disgusting.
Revulsion.
Her stomach churned, and she suddenly gagged, feeling like she wanted to vomit.
Mu Jingxi looked flustered, grabbing her shoulders, "What's wrong, are you feeling unwell somewhere?"
"Don't touch me!"
Qiao An disgustedly slapped his hand away, gritting her teeth, "Don't touch me with your filthy hands!"
Mu Jingxi stood frozen in place, his lips pressed into a tight line out of anger, his dark eyes deep and somber, harboring an impending storm.
"Do I really disgust you that much?"
"The answer is hurtful, you're better off not asking the obvious."
Hurtful?
