Lin Zhexia opened her mouth but couldn’t refute.
That was indeed what she would say.
“So,” Chi Yao changed the subject, “what’s wrong?”
Lin Zhexia pretended not to understand, avoiding his gaze: “…What do you mean, what’s wrong?”
Chi Yao raised one hand, placing his palm on the back of her head, forcing her to face him: “I mean, what’s wrong with you today?”
Their eyes met.
Lin Zhexia looked into those light-colored pupils.
She could even clearly see her reflection in them.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she initially insisted.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
As she spoke, her nose brushed against the soft scarf, and she suddenly felt a bit acidic.
“Just suddenly feeling a bit unhappy, now I’m already…”
Already better.
The last two words got stuck in her throat, taking a long time to come out.
She blinked her eyes and found that she wanted to cry. When she opened her mouth again, her words carried an obvious choke: “I…”
How embarrassing.
She wanted to cry.
A small matter that she thought was trivial, a little emotion without reason that wasn’t worth mentioning.
When someone seriously asked about it, it seemed like she had the right to feel sad.
Lin Zhexia didn’t continue.
She didn’t want to cry in front of Chi Yao, or rather, exposing her inner vulnerability had never been an easy thing.
Chi Yao seemed to notice this, and he lowered the hand that was pressing the back of her head.
Then he raised his hand and pulled up the scarf wrapped around her neck to cover those eyes that looked like they had been drenched by rain, eyes like those of a little deer.
“Go ahead and cry,” he let go of his hand, “I can’t see.”
*Author’s note: The family part of Xiao Xia’s story isn’t sad, and Old Wei is also a good person.*