She was entirely speaking in a coquettish manner, but to Mo Nanjue, her words felt like a thorn piercing his heart.
He closed his eyes, burying his sadness inside.
Tong Ran smiled brightly like a blossom. Nestled in his arms, her mood improved and she began to hum a song softly, "I've lost before, and cherish more what I have. How lucky I am to be me, loved by you, holding your hand tightly, never let go..."
Her voice was sweet and incredibly moving. As she sang, Tong Ran pulled his large hand over and interlaced their fingers, "Mo Nanjue, even our hands are so well-matched."
The man didn't open his eyes. When love can no longer be cherished, what right is there to hold hands?
Tong Ran lifted their hands, "Take a look."
Mo Nanjue said nothing, withdrawing his hand before pulling her in tightly. He buried his handsome face into her neck, and after a long pause, he finally spoke, "Where do you want to go?"
Tong Ran reached around to hold his head, "Do you want to go out?"
