Early the next morning, Li Qianqian woke up from her dreams.
The room was filled with a faint, alluring fragrance.
Xia Liu was leaning on the sofa, his face half resting on his hand, casually watching the beauty awaken.
"You've got a heart, it seems,"
Li Qianqian didn't know what to say.
Last night, she didn't know how many times she had pushed herself, and eventually drifted into sleep. Upon waking, her body was sore and aching.
But seeing Xia Liu thoughtfully preparing breakfast for her, her resentment quickly dissipated.
"Hehe, you need to eat well to have the energy for the arena. I'm rooting for you!"
"Who needs your support? Watch closely—one day you'll end up surrendering to me!"
Li Qianqian's words carried a biting coldness.
It was obvious how deeply she wanted to defeat Xia Liu.
However, reality didn't care for wishes.
As the saying goes, "There's no bad soil, only exhausted oxen."
