Xia Yiwan's lips quivered, "If not laughing, what else can I do?"
Before starting the engine, Zhou Hengnian glanced at Xia Yiwan. She was completely soaked, her long hair clinging to her petite face, her complexion slightly pale. In her clear, apricot-colored eyes, a faint redness shimmered, yet she was trying hard to force a cheerful smile.
An extreme sadness and pain emanated from her.
Zhou Hengnian extended his long hand toward Xia Yiwan, but stopped short of touching her face.
Xia Yiwan blinked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm lending you my sleeve."
Xia Yiwan frowned, puzzled, "Lend me your sleeve for what?"
"To cry, to wipe away tears."
Xia Yiwan, "..."
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his words and gesture.
"Brother, your sleeve is wet."
