"Nolan..."
Song Yaoyao listened to him quietly and suddenly said, "Thank you."
"Huh?" Nolan was surprised. He had thought that Song Yaoyao might be afraid of him. No matter what, she was only a 20-year-old girl who had grown up in peaceful China. All this blood would definitely scare her.
He had never thought that she would suddenly say such a thing.
"Thank you."
This time, Nolan heard it clearly.
He smiled like melting snow. His features were handsome and gentle as if a god from a painting had come to life.
Song Yaoyao suddenly remembered that when he stood in the pool of blood and killed people with a dagger, the decisiveness on his face corresponded to the sorrowful and compassionate smile on his face now, which was fresh like a spring breeze.
"Ah..." Nolan sighed. "What should I do? I like you even more."
