Mu Nian stood there, not moving an inch. Yet, with those quiet brows and eyes slightly tinged with melancholy, Yin Xiaobai could even feel the dry aura emanating from him. Mu Nian's hair was somewhat disheveled, but it was the kind of dishevelment that bespoke of a dashing and noble chaos.
He extinguished the cigarette between his fingers and slowly walked towards Yin Xiaobai.
Just like an old acquaintance, he reached out and ruffled her hair, "Why so disheveled?"
I...
Yin Xiaobai couldn't find the words, overtaken by a strange sensation.
A sense of déjà vu.
Why was he so gentle to her? How strange. They had only met once before in a New York bar, so why did it seem like he was a different person?
Suddenly, she remembered the chaos of that night at the bar, surrounded by gorgeous women, with him moving among them with ease. Yin Xiaobai frowned suddenly and reached out to push him away, only to find she couldn't budge him at all—he was like a wall.
