"Li beixiao, don't ..." Ye qingge's attempt to stop him was in vain.
Her cold feet were wrapped in the man's broad palm.
Feeling the coldness in his palm, li beixiao's dark eyes flashed with heartache.
He was also annoyed. He shouldn't have let her walk for so long. The cold wind on the mountain was bone-piercing.
Ye qingge's face, which was already red from the cold, turned even redder and her body stiffened.
"Can't you just not provoke me? Can't you just give in?" Li beixiao's words were heavy, but it was hard to hide his helplessness.
At this moment, ye qingge could not even force out a smile. Li beixiao had said the same thing in the morning.
Li beixiao's big palms rubbed her cold feet and they gradually warmed up.
He glanced at her thin and tall sheepskin boots and once again regretted letting her walk on her own.
"Don't, it hurts ..." Li beixiao pinched the sole of ye qingge's foot, trying to help her relieve the pain.