"You don't believe me." He said in a low voice, his voice terribly hoarse.
"We met by chance, I can't think of any reason to trust you." Mu Yiliang took a deep breath and looked up at him.
Yan Sijue released her wrist and slowly sat back in his seat.
His gaze seemed to fall on nowhere in particular, his gloomy, frightening face showed a hint of confusion.
Mu Yiliang took the opportunity to quietly step back, intending to leave without a sound.
"Stop." Yan Sijue softly spoke.
Mu Yiliang had to halt her steps, but in her heart she was lamenting.
He moved in front of her.
"I admit you're right." His voice still carried a trace of hoarseness, "I've never invested feelings in anyone, you're the first woman to move me. I instinctively wanted to keep you, but refused to think about what that meant—it's my fault, you have every right not to trust me."
Mu Yiliang bit her lip, feeling the man's hands cupping her face, she was forced to look up at him.
