Shi Yuhuan, who seldom spoke, either said nothing at all or, when he did, his words were sharp enough to penetrate one's heart like a knife. He was acutely sarcastic.
Song Qinghuan had long known this and had developed a strong resistance to pressure.
But at this moment, hearing these words, she felt utterly disgraced, extremely mortified.
Despite her struggles, Shi Yuhuan only held her tighter, with so much force as if he wanted to embed her into his flesh.
Song Qinghuan, feeling deeply uncomfortable, furrowed her brows as if she were about to suffocate.
With a tear-choked voice, her cheeks blazing with shame, she sobbed, "What are you talking nonsense about? Impossible, let me go!"
Drunk and passed out, she wasn't aware of what had transpired between them, but she trusted that she wouldn't fall to disgrace like this.
While Shi Yuhuan played with her full figure, he also pushed up her clothes from her waist, casually unveiling her bare skin underneath.
