Shi Niange was still in a daze when she was brought into the crowded street near the school.
When she finally came back to herself, the temperature on her wrist had already left. She lowered her head to look at her hand, then raised her eyes to look at the boy with indifferent eyes. She saw that Qin Siting's expression was much colder than before, and then he saw her dumbstruck expression. His handsome brows moved slightly, and then he looked at her wrist. It was the place he had held earlier.
"Is your hand stiff?" He watched as her hand remained suspended in mid-air and asked coldly.
Shi Niange abruptly placed her hand down and blinked. "No."
