Shi Yang touched Zhao Meimei's hair, staring fixedly for a couple of seconds; he hadn't looked closely due to the earlier emotional outburst. He asked in surprise, "Why did you cut your hair?"
Zhao Meimei's hair was a mess, all tangled from Shi Yang's constant messing and pulling. Unaware of how disheveled she looked, she happily said, "This hairstyle suits me better. I even specially permed it back then."
Shi Yang looked at her closely; Zhao Meimei's eyes were blackened, and her carefully applied makeup had been blurred by tears.
"It's like a basket on top of your head, how is it nice-looking?" Shi Yang poked her forehead.
Zhao Meimei wanted to argue back, but Shi Yang immediately picked her up from the bed and took her to the bathroom to wash.
As they washed, things started to shift; they hadn't seen each other for almost a month, and at an age like wolves, just a spark could ignite a raging fire, their self-restraint practically nonexistent.
