Wen Changling walked up to the glass but didn't go in. A police officer stood at the door, and Jiang Chengxue was awake, his body full of tubes, yet he wasn't lying down. He was waiting for her, had been waiting for three days since he woke up.
"Wen Changling."
He knew Wen Changling could read lips; no sound was necessary.
"That day, I only bit you once, I didn't touch you otherwise."
Through the window, his gaze was burning, so intense as if something was ablaze. In front of Wen Changling, he always loved to smile, he lifted the corners of his mouth, even at this moment, he still wanted to provoke her.
"I actually wanted to kiss you"
Wen Changling's expression turned even colder.
How indifferent she was.
But he never got angry with Wen Changling. "Are you angry?"
He could read lips too; the second year after Wen Zhaoyang's death, he went to Chevalier, and upon his return, he learned lip-reading and sign language, but Wen Changling didn't know; she hadn't spoken a word.