Ye Xiong ran back to his room, lay on the bed, gasping for breath.
Looking back, he had guessed that there indeed was nothing wrong with the light in Tang Ning's bathroom; she must have deliberately broken it to lure him over.
The door wasn't locked, and the feigned slip in the bathroom was a trap through and through!
Poor him, he almost fell into it, unable to extricate himself.
Like mother, like daughter.
Honestly, to say he had no thoughts about Tang Ning was impossible.
Tang Ning was the kind of girl who could fiercely trigger a man's hormones—young, pretty, vibrant, voluptuous. Faced with such youthful beauties, if a man said he had no thoughts, he would definitely be lying.
What he could affirm, though, was that he didn't love her. It was merely physical attraction, not the heartfelt love he felt for Yang Xinyi, Du Yuehua, or Luo Weiwei.
