"Why did you let go, don't you love me anymore?" Qian Ying was on the verge of tears.
Wang Ze: "(;☉_☉)?"
"Hey? No! No!"
"Bai Bufan, damn you!"
The running Bai Bufan looked back. Did someone just call his name?
Forget it, doesn't matter.
...
Ten minutes ago.
When foreheads touched, and temples met, Lin Li could smell the fresh fragrance between Chen Yu Ying's hair. Her pupils reflected his, with sparks of starlight glimmering in her eyes, flickering with the rhythm of his Adam's apple moving up and down.
The sound of the sugar art stall's iron spoon clinking, the laughter and noise of tourists, the rustling of lantern tassels being ruffled by the wind—suddenly collapsed into a blurred background noise.
There were many people around, yet it seemed as though there were very few.
The hearts of the young boy and girl, at this moment, were sharp, piercing their tender hearts, reminding each other of their existence, so vividly, so uniquely.
