Those three words slipped softly from Yan Xinxin's rosy lips.
As if she wasn't quite sure of them herself.
Mo Chuxi saw the little woman lying on the bed, big eyes wide open and fixed on him, and hurried to the door, locking it behind him.
Yan Xinxin slowly sat up, watching Mo Chuxi turn back and walk toward her, her bright pupils fixed on him.
"How did you come up from the balcony? Why are you here looking for me again?"
"Xinxin."
At her words, Mo Chuxi immediately walked to the bedside and reached out to hold Yan Xinxin's hand.
"Xinxin, you still haven't recovered?"
"Recovered?"
Yan Xinxin repeated the word in confusion, a faint shadow of worry surfacing in her eyes.
"I don't know what you're talking about. You should go, now."
As she spoke, she tried to pull her hand out of Mo Chuxi's palm, but he only tightened his grip.
"Xinxin, don't drive me away."
Mo Chuxi's dark eyes stayed on her, the attachment and reluctance in them unmistakable.
