Instantly, Song Qinghuan's eyes welled up with feelings of grievance and embarrassment. She glared at him before managing to utter four words: "I hate you!"
"Boring!" was Shi Yuhuan's response, not at all angry at her words.
Song Qinghuan's eyes widened: "How can my hate be boring?"
Shi Yuhuan, full of confidence, carelessly retorted: "Women always talk in opposites."
Song Qinghuan shook her head vehemently, "That's not it, that's not it at all."
Shi Yuhuan snorted dismissively, smirking mischievously, "If that's not it, then what are your hands doing on my waist?"
Only then Song Qinghuan, realized that when Shi Yuhuan let go of her hands, not only did she fail to push him away, but she was gently hugging his waist in a surprisingly docile manner.
Oh, my God, where was her integrity!
She stared wide-eyed in surprise, quickly retracting her hand, her cheeks flaming red, stammering out denials, "No, no, it's not like that! I swear it's not like that, I was just..."
