By the end, Lin Ruochun had just opened her throat and burst into tears.
Wen Qiao was caught off guard by this sudden occurrence, so she tried to explain, "No, I'm not saying I don't like—"
"Wah—"
Wen Qiao: "....."
If time could be rewound, she definitely wouldn't let Lin Ruochun touch even a drop of alcohol.
Wen Qiao wasn't good at comforting people. All she could do was silently wait for Lin Ruochun to stop crying and shut up, then hand her a tissue and casually ask, "Have you cried enough?"
Seeing that she was gasping for air and nobody was paying attention to her, Lin Ruochun gradually became more composed, crawled up from the bed shakily, and staggered.
Wen Qiao quickly went over to support her, "What are you doing?"
Lin Ruochun wiped her face, "Going to wash up, it's sticky and uncomfortable."
After saying that, she smeared the hand she had just wiped her own face with onto Wen Qiao's clothes.
"......"
