Mu Xiaoqi wanted to ask, but he dared not open his mouth. He was afraid to touch the wound hidden in his heart at night.

If his heart is not hurt, how can he keep his mask?

Neither of them was talking, and the little lounge was quiet.

"What else are you stunned about?" Nightscape raises his finger to point to the pot which is clean and clean. Some impatiently signal Mu Xiaoqi to wash the pot, breaking the silence.

Mu Xiaoqi responded, picked up his chopsticks and pot, turned around and washed them in front of the washstand.

secretly breathed a sigh of relief, and he let her do...