Underneath Yue Tingfeng's body was a towel—her towel, Yan Qingsi noted. He must have felt the hotel sheets were too dirty for him to lay in.
"Why are you back so late?" Yue Tingfeng frowned as he asked, unperturbed by Yan Qingsi's mocking earlier.
His question was clearly ladened with blame, complaint, and a self-righteous sense of entitlement—it was like he was the rightful owner of this place.
As the saying goes, everything looks sexier under dim light.
Yan Qingsi had to admit, looking at Yue Tingfeng under this light, his face was very appealing the more she looked at it, but also… she started to hate it the more she looked at it.
She hated it, to the point where if she had a pail of acid, she would not hesitate to pour the whole thing on him.
Yan Qingsi leaned back against the wall, using it to keep her tired shell of a body upright.
