Song Ci was still a young lady. Although she didn't care much about the results of that online poll, she was still secretly smug at being the object of lust among so many men.
Han Zhan suddenly let go of her finger.
He said, "It's ten p.m. now."
Song Ci felt very puzzled. Han Zhan stood up and left the room.
Song Ci thought Han Zhan was going downstairs to sleep in the living room and felt somewhat disappointed, but she also felt rather smug. However, Han Zhan returned just a few moments later, holding a pair of cuffs and a roll of masking tape.
It stunned Song Ci. "You have this kind of fetish?"
Han Zhan remained silent. He walked over to the bed and knelt over Song Ci's body. He opened the handcuffs and cuffed her hands over her chest. His movements were smooth and quick that Song Ci had no time to react at all.
