"What do you think of me?"
It seemed like a normal question, but for some reason, it made the atmosphere suddenly ambiguous.
On a late autumn night, a cool breeze blows.
The moon is bright and the stars are sparse.
Qiao Liang, who was sitting on the bench, had an inexplicably sincere look in his eyes, like autumn water with flowing light, and reflected in his eyes was a young man who looked a little dazed.
Login to comment
Be the first one to comment...