Feng Yueming's entire handsome face had been struck askew, radiating a fierce chill from his body.
The two large hands hanging by his side clenched into fists, and he turned his head to glare furiously at the woman. Her eye rims reddened, and her large eyes were already clouded with glistening mist.
She was going to cry.
Feng Yueming was taken aback; his previously fierce and cold aura rapidly retracted, leaving him bewildered. His thin lips moved as he tried to speak, "I..."
Mi Yao turned her back, lying down on the bed.
Feng Yueming felt a dryness in his throat. He strode over to the bedside and then bent down, placing his large palms beside her, "Mi Yao, are you angry?"
Mi Yao lay with her back to him, unresponsive. Glittering tears slid from the corners of her eyes onto the snowy pillowcase.
Feng Yueming's heart felt as if it was being squeezed by a large hand. He gently kissed her cheek, sealing the tears on her face with his lips; her tears tasted bitter.
