"Jiang Yan, I apologize for my previous arrogance and rudeness," Mo Shiyao murmured, clenching the pink thermos cup in her hand and awkwardly raising one hand.
A smile curved Jiang Yan's lips as she removed her gloves and grasped Mo Shiyao's hand, "Isn't there an old saying, 'No discord, no concord'?"
She knew that Mo Shiyao was just prideful and had a sharp tongue but a soft heart.
Otherwise, there was no need for her to step in and help at the base's shopping center entrance when Qin Lei was picking a quarrel.
"Indeed, 'No discord, no concord,'" Mo Shiyao inhaled deeply, her eyes now more open and shining with a light.
Jiang Yan glanced at her hand, "You should wear gloves later. To survive in this apocalypse, we must protect our hands."
She had Lin Xiaohui bring Mo Shiyao a pair of fleece-lined leather gloves before, which she did not wear.
Now those hands were ice-cold and swollen.
The handshake lasted merely a second, akin to holding a chunk of ice.
