Or Perhaps I Grieve for Myself

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, looking so satisfied that even the way he looked at a dog seemed tender. “Want to listen to some music? I could sing for you. All my friends say I’m pretty good,” he murmured, lowering his head to gaze at her ear as he shamelessly “offered himself.” She tilted her head back and gave him a sidelong glance, laughing so hard she could barely contain herself, then finally leaned into his arms. As if provoked, he pressed her: “What? You don’t believe me?” She humored him. “Sure, I believe you.” But she thought of the scene in the movie where Wang Jiazhi sings… Hmm. She turned to look at his face. He really was a handsome man capable of wrecking lives…