Jiang Zhixun's apology was perfunctory, but the nervousness in his eyes was impossible to conceal.
Not getting a response from Shen Qingqing, he turned to his father to complain.
"She's been bullying me these past few days. When I talk to her, she won't even respond. Don't just scold me, say something to her too."
Because he lacked confidence, his words had an inexplicable hint of bravado.
Father Jiang shot him a cold glance, "Shut your mouth."
With no one taking his side, Jiang Zhixun tightened his coat, crossed his arms, and leaned lazily against his seat.
No longer feigning sleep, he stared straight ahead, his gaze intermittently flicking to the rear-view mirror.
He wanted to say something to Shen Qingqing, but he genuinely didn't know where to start, so he kept silent.
Father Jiang's expression was stern.
Deep down, he didn't want his son to miss out on such a good girl.
