Xuxu's hands hooked themselves around his neck with nimble and swift movements. She then wounded her legs around his waist.
Without Yan Rusheng's help, she tightly clung on to him all on her own.
Xuxu's weight was nothing to Yan Rusheng, leisurely walking with ease.
The brutal and piercing winds mercilessly swept across her. It made her pull her shoulders up. She planted her face on Yan Rusheng's back trying to steal some of his warmth.
Layers of clothing separated them, but she could still feel the warmth emanating from his body.
Her slight movement tickled Yan Rusheng, and he couldn't differentiate whether it was his heart that was being tickled or his skin.
He tightened his grip on Xuxu's legs. He gnashed his teeth and said, "Stupid woman. You are beginning to pout and act more coquettishly with me."
This feeling was great—Wen Xuxu needing and depending on him was wonderful.
