Back at their room doors, Rosalie glanced at the shirt she was wearing.

"I'll wash the shirt and return it to you."

They stayed in the food stall for so long, followed by harassment from several drunks, their clothes smelled like barbecue and alcohol.

Rosalie felt a little disgusted at the whiff of her own scent.

Byron’s response was irrelevant. "Were you frightened just now?"

Rosalie was stunned for a few seconds before realizing what he was talking about. She pursed her lips, then smiled. "A little bit, yes. There were so many of them, we should just leave, there's no need to get entangled with them."

Byron frowned deeply. "I don't like the way they look at you."

His answer implied that the reason he did not choose to leave was because those people cat-called her.

Rosalie was surprised at that, then gradually smiled. "Thank you."

She was the one who wanted to eat at the food stall, but in the end caused so much trouble for Byron.

The last thing Byron wanted to hear was her