Peng Fang was shy and awkward, her entire face flushed red, but gradually, a strange sensation spread from the nerves in her palms down to her lower abdomen, sparking a fierce yearning.
"I—"
Just as she parted her dry lips to speak, he suddenly released her hand and withdrew from her side.
Chen Xiaoyi turned his back on her, trying to quell the fire raging inside him. His earlier actions had only ignited his own desires. In a hoarse voice, he said, "There are three years left. I will wait for you."
Upon hearing his words, Peng Fang's mind flashed back to the scene of him walking with that woman on the night in question. She furrowed her brows and said, "If this is out of pity or compassion for me, I don't need it."
"Why would I pity or feel compassion for you?" Chen Xiaoyi turned around, confused by her abrupt statement.
