Her voice was fragile and fragmented, like a kitten mewing.
It was trembling, filled with panic, and weak, even her struggles were feeble.
This made Gu Jinghui feel a surge of warmth, his dark pupils ignited with a small flame, yet he said indifferently, "Madam has become increasingly cold towards me these days."
Qin Yuan's face was flushed, she wanted to withdraw her hand, but couldn't, "Can we calmly discuss things?"
"Go ahead, I'm listening."
Gu Jinghui tightly rubbed his little wife's hand, a smile playing at his lips.
"I..."
Qin Yuan's thoughts were disrupted, she didn't even know what she wanted to say.
Gu Jinghui moved closer to stir trouble, his hoarse voice accused, his breath brushing against her ear, mingled with a light scent of sweat, medicine, and soap, strong but not unpleasant.
