Lin Jiangqiong froze and looked at Gu Mian with some resentment. She whispered, "I didn't mean that." She had thought that the exquisite person in front of her would not continue to pursue it, but Song Huaiyan was rather unforgiving. His long and white fingers were playing with those of Gu Mian's, and his wide palm was holding Gu Mian's small palm.