Wen Ran's eyes blurred with tears, making it impossible to see the man on the big screen clearly.
She withdrew her gaze and looked at Mo Xiuchen, who was wiping away her tears. His handsome features were close at hand, his crisp and mature masculine scent entering her nostrils with her breaths, filling her lungs and coursing through her entire body, in every nerve ending.
A pampering curve formed on Mo Xiuchen's lips as he patiently and gently wiped her tears, softly saying, "If you keep crying, your makeup will run."
Wen Ran pursed her lips and sobbed, "That's all your fault."
"It is my fault. If I had known you would cry like this, I really shouldn't have let you wear makeup," Mo Xiuchen said, the smile at the corner of his mouth growing richer.
