A trace of gloom and fierceness flashed in Feng Yuran's handsome eyes, but soon turned into tenderness. His slender fingers stroked Mo Xuetong's black hair, untied her hair bun, and caressed her silky hair, and he said in a soft voice. "You're talking something strange to me again. It's alright. Doesn't Tong'er believe me?"

Concealing the cruelty in his eyes, he was more like a fierce beast protecting his cub at this moment.

In any case, he would find the antidote ...