"Oh? Are you so sure?" Su Mingdi hooked up Han Dingxiang's fair chin with one hand.
His gaze carried a hint of admiration and a bit of playfulness.
Han Dingxiang turned her head away, breaking free from his devilish grasp and said with conviction, "Of course, I'm sure."
But then a trace of dejection appeared in her eyes, "You don't understand him; you have no idea what he's thinking. In any case, he definitely won't come to save me."
Hearing this, Su Mingdi became somewhat interested, "So you're saying, you understand him very well?"
"Better than you."
"Haha, you do understand him better than me," Su Mingdi dismissed her retort with a mocking laugh, but then he teasingly asked, "Since you understand him so well, aren't you worried about your own life?"
At these words, Han Dingxiang's expression suddenly turned gloomy.
After a silence of two seconds, she said, "I've already died once; I've long since stopped caring."
"Oh? That's quite pessimistic?"