As soon as Lin Ruochun finished speaking, Wen Qiao scoffed coldly and dismissively, "Argue with him? What's the cause? Because there's a six-year gap between us, he was about to pack his bags for first grade while I wasn't even born yet? So because I mentioned the great weather in Hang City today, he decided to have an academic discussion about global warming with me?"
"....."
After Wen Qiao's words, the curious expression Lin Ruochun had about the gossip had disappeared, replaced by a poker face. Finally, she nodded, "Although I don't quite understand what you're saying, judging from your tone and expression, my guess just now seems correct, and it seems like your situation is pretty serious."
Actually, Wen Qiao herself didn't even know what she was saying, but what she knew was that her mood wasn't good, and that was enough.
How to put it, it felt weird.
Her chest felt stuffy, as if there was a clump of air trapped and unable to escape.
