Li Meirong gulped down the liquid between ongoing coughs, her eyes glaring daggers at the man holding her captive on his lap.
After the cup was successfully emptied out, Zhu Qingyue leaned back and affectionately patted Li Meirong's head, his fingers gently glided through her silky, midnight hair.
"Good girl." he murmured.
"Zhu Qingyue!" Li Meirong sputtered in outrage. She shook her head against his hold, feeling as if he was patronizing her.
"Call me husband." Zhu Qingyue's playful voice sounded above her head.
"Release me this instant!"
"Say 'please release me, my dear husband'."
Li Meirong gnashed her teeth. "You infuriating-"
Zhu Qingyue tapped on her lips with his index finger, silencing her. He clucked his tongue in disapproval. "What did I say?"
