Song Yaoyao's heart relaxed and she breathed out. As she wiped her tears, she patted her chest. "You scared me. I thought..."
As she spoke, she lifted her gaze and looked into the man's cold, dark eyes. It was as though he was staring at a dead person.
"You saw it now? Song Yaoyao where did you think I was hurt? Tell me!"
His scolding tone made Song Yaoyao tremble.
She shrunk back her neck and her face turned red like blood. Her gaze swept across the dining table and glanced outside for help. She didn't want to see Huo Yunque's intimidating expression anymore.
"I..."—she pouted her lips and laughed dryly—"I thought the same thing as you..."
"Oh?"
Huo Yunque held back a smile; his actions tugged on his wound again.
He hissed and leaned back against his pillow, lifting his tightened chin. "Yes, keep lying."
Song Yaoyao: "..."
