It was the truth. Because he was Mo Qingchen could she unashamedly take his help. She could justify it by saying he was doing it on his own accord and she didn't need to repay his kindness.
"I don't want your money," he said suddenly. "You were going to compensate me or something, weren't you?" he observed.
She shook her head. "No." He looked surprised. "I don't know how to repay something like human warmth." She shook her head in confusion. "I feel like it was charity, though."
"It wasn't a charity. It was a gift from a friend." Surprise, surprise.
"I am your friend?" her pitch was a few notches higher. "You don't even know me…" Wasn't this what she wanted? To be acknowledged as a friend-enemy?
"I think I may know you better than you think I do. You may not realize it, but I think you and I are a lot alike."
Way to sound like a creep, Mo Qingchen. It sounds like something a serial killer would say before killing a girl and saving their skin as a trophy.
