Translator: Larbre Studio Editor: Larbre Studio
Then a girl blurted.
“Someone please get her out! How can we enjoy the movie with that noise? Waiter! Waiter!”
It further stirred up the audience, people looking at and mouthing harsh words at the crazy-acting woman crying loudly.
Xiyan seemed to be drowning in her own pain that segregated her from the rest of the world’s foul cursing. She cried and cried, even louder. A mixture of movie scenes and what she had been through kept spinning in her head.
“Ma’am, ma’am, wake up.”
A tall man walked to her side, bending to gently pat on her back, trying to wake her up from agony.
But his efforts went in vain as the woman kept crying in a loud and miserable manner.
She must had a really bad breakup. He figured.
Suddenly he found himself lifting the woman with one arm across her back and the other holding her legs.
“Excuse us!”
He marched out of the theater with the woman in his arms before he was able to take a clear look at her.
She was more ill-looking than the protagonist, hair uncombed with some on her forehead and neck soaked with tears adhered to her skin. Her face was pale and bloodless and so was her lips, except they were a bit stained by the blood from her own biting. More tears were pooling in and pouring out from her eyes, synchronizing with her crying. Her body was cold as her hand on his neck sent chills down his spine.
Her thin clothes could barely protect her from the freezing temperature.
Putting the woman down on a chair, the man patted his shoulder that was soaked by her tears.
He could only imagine the throes she was in.
His amber eyes squinted under a frown and flicked open with a thread of sympathy.
He took off his own coat and wrapped it around her before leaving the woman for the theater.
The small production firm turned out to be a pretty good one, touchingly depicting a profile that was easy to arise empathy among the audience.
At the same time in the extravagant villa –
Xia Yuwei cuddled in the arms of Mo Yixuan like a baby.
Fiddling with the tie on her lover’s chest with her long, slender fingers, she gazed at his grimly handsome face.
What a beautiful man, perfect as a delicately carved artwork that deserves enduring appreciation.
“Yixuan, are you still mad at me?” She broke the silence and asked, tightly wrapping her arms around the man’s waist. “I’m sorry, Yixuan, for having the maids dumping her stuff without your consent. I just don’t want those things to remind you of her. I’m jealous, I’m indeed jealous of her.”
Xia Yuwei explained in an injured tone, tears brewing in her eyes.
Yixuan had his head raised, showing his perfectly curved chin.
He didn’t answer to the woman, his heart still aching from deprivation.