Standing at the doorway, Yang Dong, hearing the voice and seeing the person, was thunderstruck.
The slightly muddled head from drinking immediately cleared up.
Knocking on the wrong door made his face burn with embarrassment; luckily, it was night, and even if the moon was bright, it wouldn't show the subtle change on his face.
He felt he lost face; how could he go knocking on some other girl's door in the middle of the night? If others knew, he couldn't explain himself, and wouldn't this ruin the girl's reputation?
Noticing his own rudeness, he was so nervous his tongue trembled, and he quickly said, "So, sorry, I knocked on the wrong door."
Without waiting for the girl to speak, he fled as if escaping.
He headed straight to the door of Yang Xiaocui's home next door, feeling somewhat less nervous than he just was.
Settling his mood, Yang Dong suddenly remembered that the girl called his name.
A thought arose in his mind—does she know him?
