Bo Shaoxiu did not know whether to feel happy or sad.
Nan Zhi had come, but it was for the diary, not for him.
He didn't know whether to laugh, or scream in rage. It had already been four years, but the pain was as fresh as the day she had left. He had wooed her for two years but his status in her heart was not comparable to a faded, yellowing diary.
It was clear how important that person was to her.
But it did not matter. If he could not get her heart, he would make do with her body. Bo Shaoxiu checked out Nan Zhi secretly. She was wearing a coat and jeans, wrapping herself up tightly.
But the more he could not see anything, the more he wanted to peel her off, layer by layer, and see the beautiful scenery inside.
The image of Nan Zhi's gracefulness wearing a dress appeared in Bo Shaoxiu's mind, making his throat tickle.