"Yeah!"
The flute suddenly stopped and a strange voice sounded.
"Ah!"
Mo Zheng was startled by the sudden discordant note. She looked at the person walking towards her nervously and stammered: "Yes... I'm sorry!"
As soon as she finished speaking, she turned around and left.
"What's wrong? Don't you like the sound of my flute?"
The man quickly took a few steps and stood in front of Mo Zheng. He lowered himself and asked. A faint breath lingered on his face, and it felt strangely itchy. If it hadn't been blocked by the brim of his hat, his face might have touched Mo Zheng.
Too close!
Mo Zheng's heart skipped a beat, two shallow red clouds flew over her face, and she carefully leaned back slightly.
Well, there is a somewhat familiar voice, a somewhat familiar peaked cap, most of the face is covered, and the parts that are not covered are sharp and angular.
"It's you!"
Mo Zheng finally remembered where she had seen this restless hero and screamed in surprise.
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