"Don't be angry, you're just naturally ugly."
Those seven words seemed to transform into a sharp blade, piercing into Su Fanxing's heart.
Su Fanxing turned her head with a gloomy gaze to look at him.
Lin Tianyu met her eyes and calmly spat out one word, "Ugly."
Yet his hand didn't move from her head, as if he had become addicted to touching it. Su Fanxing's hair was fine and soft, feeling particularly nice to the touch.
Unable to endure any longer, Su Fanxing forcefully slapped his hand away.
Lin Tianyu retracted his hand with regret, his fingers gently rubbing together, a hint of fragrance lingering, not unpleasant.
Catching the look in his eyes, Su Fanxing couldn't help but let out a cold laugh. He called her ugly but still wanted to touch her head—such a lovely scenario was out of the question.
The atmosphere outside the emergency room shifted from its original solemn chill to something more subtle.
Lin Tianyu observed Su Fanxing without a sideways glance.