Jiang Shouzhong's statement once again plunged the air into silence.
Ran Qingchen looked astonished, and then spat lightly, turning her head away, "Who has a child with you..."
Jiang Shouzhong touched his nose and said awkwardly, "Just kidding."
Ran Qingchen pursed her red lips and looked at the ancient tree not far away without a word, her exposed half-slice of snowy neck dazzlingly rosy, her cheeks flushed with heat.
A fiery breath gently spread between them, as if carrying an invisible warmth that not only warmed the air around them but also inadvertently brought them closer, suffusing a delicate and charming sentiment.
Jiang Shouzhong's words had ultimately crossed the line.
Perhaps it was an ill-timed joke, perhaps an inadvertent probe.
But for the two, who were already in a complex emotional phase, his words seemed to attempt piercing through the paper.
From initial mutual disregard, to friendship, to understanding, to the growth of obscure feelings.