Shen Zhiyue's beautiful eyes intently stared at Mo Xingyuan, her smile slightly meaningful.
Mo Xingyuan didn't speak for a long time.
But his eyes were deep and dark.
That time...
He thought he was definitely going to die.
Just when he kept sinking underwater, a pair of nimble little hands hooked around his neck, her soft arms forcefully pulled in, struggling to pry open his mouth, fresh air was pumped into his mouth, carrying the tender and sweet scent unique to a young girl, the scent he liked, and he finally began to slowly regain consciousness. He desperately tried to open his eyes to see the girl's face clearly, vaguely seeing a shadow, but when he truly opened his eyes, he was already ashore.
The young girl squatting in front of him and crying was Shen Zhiyue.
It was Zhiyue who saved him.
But for some reason, he always felt that the shadow he saw underwater didn't quite resemble Zhiyue.
But that day on the bank, apart from Zhiyue, there were no other girls.
