In the midst of the storm, the phone suddenly rang. Qiao Mo, with tear-filled eyes, looked at the unknown number on the screen and slowly answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Where are you?"
As soon as she heard Fu Nancheng's voice, Qiao Mo's emotions flared up again: "I don't want you to care! I don't want your hypocritical kindness! I hate you! Fu Nancheng, I hate you!"
Fu Nancheng felt a pain in his heart but said gently, "Be good, tell me where you are."
Listening to his low and gentle voice, Qiao Mo felt even more aggrieved, and the tears she just managed to hold back fell once again: "Why do this to me? Why are you treating me like this..."
"I hate you… I hate you!"
"..."
He let her curse for a while, fearing the thunderstorm that could hit at any moment. Fu Nancheng, unable to set his mind at ease, spoke again: "Be good, first tell me where you are."
As if a lot of the pent-up grievances had been vented, under his steady voice, she finally calmed down a bit.
