C2 Wants to push him down

Bright red liquid flowed down the man's forehead. Under the reflection of his frightening eyes, Mo Xiaoran's body quickly retreated. He casually picked up an item from the chest and threw it at the man without even looking at it.

A sweet smell immediately spread in the air, and a few people roared. Mo Xiaoran did not hear what they said, but when her body passed by a crystal accessory, Mo Xiaoran did not even think about it as she smashed it towards the light beam that was following her.

With a "pa" sound, the surrounding light dimmed down, and Mo Xiaoran took the opportunity to rush to Wang Yiling's side and pull her towards the door.

In a room upstairs, there was a clear window, and the smell of coffee filled the air. Liao Mingyun stared at the tall figure standing at the window in a daze.

Having not seen Xiao Menghan for eighteen years, she knew that Xiao Menghan was even more enchanting than she had imagined.

"Why haven't you contacted me after coming back for so long? "If I hadn't heard it from Aunt Ying, I would have thought that you were abroad, Meng Han, and I would have missed you."

"Miss Liao, I don't think there's a need to contact you. Please leave."

"Meng Han?" Liao Mingyun's words were agitated as she stood up and walked to Xiao Menghan's side. She was only 1.7m tall to his shoulder, and when she lifted her eyes to look at Xiao Menghan's perfect side profile, her heart was beating extremely fiercely. Her talkative speech suddenly became clumsy at this moment: "I, have you forgotten what you promised me when you were young?"

Xiao Menghan was still looking out of the window. His voice was cold and his voice low, "I only remember now, don't come looking for me again."

"I love you." Liao Mingyun's body trembled, she looked at Xiao Menghan, she did not know where she got the courage, she only knew that if she did not confess this time, she would not have another chance: "I love you, from the moment I first saw you when I was five, I had already told myself that you are the only man I will ever have. All these years, with so many people chasing me, I have never forgotten about you.

18 years? It had already been eighteen years since he first found out that he was different from others. Xiao Menghan pursed her lips, her ice-cold face didn't even have a curve in the slightest.

Liao Mingyun forced himself to lift his head, trying to make his smile as bright as a flower. "Meng Han, the only person who can stand by my side in this world is you.

His eyes were half closed and his long eyelashes covered the dark color in them. His lips no longer pursed as he said, "I've never given you any promise. Miss Liao, we're not close. Take care, we don't send you off."

"Are you really that heartless?" Liao Mingyun's entire body was trembling. There were so many men outside who squeezed their heads out to ask for her hand in marriage, no matter if it was their family background or appearance, she felt that they were all enough to match Xiao Menghan. Her voice was choked with sobs, and she was not willing to give up: "Why? You're in love with another woman? "

"Nope." These two words, Xiao Menghan's reply was resolute and decisive.

Liao Mingyun was ecstatic, her eyes lit up as she looked at Xiao Menghan. Suddenly, a bold idea popped up in her mind.

Her long skirt fell to the ground as she hugged Meng Han, "Meng Han, be my man!"

With cold, sword-like eyebrows, Xiao Menghan's body did not move at all. His calm gaze carried surging waves of darkness: "Scram."

Tears slowly flowed out of the corner of Liao Mingyun's eyes, and she couldn't believe her own ears. She looked at Xiao Menghan with misty eyes, but he was still staring at the sky outside, and there wasn't a single bit of her in his line of sight.

With trembling hands, he grabbed at the clothes on the ground. Liao Mingyun retreated a few steps and his gaze fell on the handsome figure of Xiao Menghan.

The door opened, and then closed. Xiao Menghan did not even need to turn his head to know that Liao Mingyun had left.

He would not fall in love with any woman. That night eighteen years ago had doomed him to solitude. With one last look at the clouds fading in the sky, he turned and walked back to his bedroom.

In the steamy bathroom, the bright light shone on his hair, leaving a few shadows on the man's slightly lowered face. The lines were clear, the dense eyebrows had the most perfect fluidity, the corners of his lips were pursed slightly, and there was a hint of coldness.