"We've met before, haven't we?"
Luo Xiaoqian watched Leng Zimo's hands as he cut the fruit. His fingers were long and slender, and his skin was well cared for. Such hands didn't really look like those of a chef.
Leng Zimo paused for a moment, then continued cutting the fruit.
"I mean, before you came to the island, we met."
This time, it was not a question, but an affirmative statement.
The pause just now already answered the question.
"I know you understand what I'm saying. You don't just understand Chinese; you can also speak and write it!" Luo Xiaoqian continued, her voice so low that only the two of them could hear. "Who exactly are you?"
Leng Zimo put all the fruit into the juicer, turned his face to look at her.
Her eyes were bright, filled with an expectant look. She was waiting for him to tell her the truth.
That gaze was something he could never refuse. He took a deep breath, hesitating on how to begin.
Had she… felt his familiarity?!
