She was breathing rapidly, her gaze seemingly vacant, as if she had been pushed into a realm of emptiness. She didn't feel that any particular sentence from the man had pricked her, but she still felt as if all the blood in her body had begun to surge.
It had been a very, very long time since she had this feeling.
Mo Shichen watched her for a while. Half a minute later, he leaned over again, his hand reaching towards her chest. Wen Yi's body stiffened, and she lifted her eyelids, her gaze cold as she looked at him.
The man's slender and beautiful fingers buttoned up her shirt, one by one, and he even raised his hand to briskly tidy up her short hair. Finally, he planted a light kiss on her cheek before standing up and walking back.
He meticulously poured a cup of hot tea, then circled back to her direction and placed the teacup on the coffee table.
The steam was swirling, and a thin white mist drifted.
