So, it's my fault?
Qiao Mo showed a wry smile and shrank her neck: No, no... it's my fault... it's my fault!
He withdrew his gaze, focusing on Xie Qinghuan.
The woman had large, wavy curls, delicate features, exceptionally sexy.
Xie Qinghuan glanced at him and spoke again: "Qiao Xiaomo, you haven't introduced him yet; who's this level-two cripple?"
Qiao Mo's eye twitched, is she going to ask every time they meet who he is?
Fu Nancheng also couldn't bother with the cripple or not issue, and likewise focused his gaze on Qiao Mo.
Qiao Mo felt distressed.
Yesterday's answer seemed to have made someone dissatisfied.
Today, if she made someone dissatisfied again, she could almost foresee how she'd die...
"He... he is... a good friend of mine."
As soon as Qiao Mo spoke, she distinctly sensed the gaze beside her growing a bit colder.
Instantly felt like crying without tears.
But the issue is... what does he want her to say?
