This is an intellectual competition, but also an emotional Shura field.
He neither defended nor fought for her suspicion, but there was sadness hidden deep in his eyes as black as midnight. He lowered his head, closed his eyelids lightly, and pressed a kiss on her lips, "I never wanted to harm you."
And he glared at her roughly, "That's why women are the most troublesome." After yelling, he silently handed her a tissue and put his coat firmly on her body.
We are not saints. The desires spurred from deep within our hearts make us like people who are about to drown. Once we catch it, we will not care about the consequences until we die. Maybe that's what's crazy about us and what's lovely about us.
