Jiang Shuyao's throat was dry and raspy. She tried to open her mouth, "Pei Yan, why do you like me."
The girl's delicate voice weakly emanated from his chest.
Pei Yan's steps momentarily paused, his usually stern jawline gradually softening.
A slight curve formed at the corner of his lips, yet he did not look at her.
"Then you answer my question first."
Hmm?
Pei Yan's Adam's apple moved, his low voice tinged with the fog of a winter's night, "Yaoyao, why don't you like me."
The girl's breathing hitched.
After a few seconds of silence, she gently closed her eyes.
It wasn't that she did not like him, she just didn't know before—at their age, what could really be called 'liking.'
Two people who had grown up together naturally had an emotional foundation. She had once thought that Pei Yan's fervor was just a whim, in other words, an instinctive human interest akin to a rabbit wanting to eat the grass by its burrow.
Later, she slowly realized that this guy was serious.
