"Xiao Qiao, sweetheart, you came without even coming to see me."
Chris gave Su Qiao a warm hug, but just as she was about to say something, a large hand pulled Su Qiao away.
Su Qiao turned and smiled at Chris.
It wasn't that she wanted to leave, but the way Chris kept stuffing her into her armpit at the slightest opportunity was truly depressing.
Chris didn't mind at all. She even mischievously winked at her and mouthed silently, "Have a wonderful evening."
Understanding what she was saying, Su Qiao was speechless.
Cen Mohan pulled her over to the punching bag, then released her hand.
At this point, he had no reason to keep holding it.
When he noticed Su Qiao still looking back, Cen Mohan narrowed his eyes. His gaze toward the distant lounge carried a dangerous glint.
"That's your boyfriend?"
Hadn't they already broken up?
She had even moved out and resigned from the company. Didn't that attitude mean she had drawn a line under everything in the past?
Why were they still entangled?
Yesterday, too—she had actually gone to the restaurant to corner him.
"You already know the answer."
Hadn't he seen it last time?
Su Qiao shot him a sidelong glance and accepted the boxing gloves he held out.
Cen Mohan's eyes flickered.
So she still remembered the circumstances of their first meeting. He had thought that his face was so ordinary and forgettable that it had no distinctiveness at all.
"You're still keeping a man like that?"
He had to admit that when he saw the two of them walk into the gym together, he'd felt an impulse.
He had wanted to rush over, grab that man, and throw him out.
He had also wanted to wake her up properly and tell her that a