C645

Wen Zhixia instinctively retreated as she lifted her head to look at the expressionless Wen Zhixia. As she moved, the bowl of soup was knocked over onto the blanket.

Wen Zhixia, who was easy to see in panic, froze the hand she wanted to touch on her cheek in the air. Was she afraid of him, or hated his touch?

Wen Zhixia tilted her head to the side, avoiding the easy gaze