The man's voice was deep and hoarse, with a hint of a smile in it. It was lazy and seductive.
Ning Li was in his embrace. Leaning against his flat and sturdy chest, she could clearly feel the warmth of his body and his heartbeat.
She was so embarrassed by his words that her face turned red.
She wanted to say something, but he did not give her a chance. He swallowed the rest of her words into his mouth, leaving only a few vague syllables.
He kissed her and asked with a smile, "... What do you say? Will you teach your brother?"
Ning Li was burning up.
The Lu Huaiyu she knew was proud and noble, cold and ascetic. He was like a flower on a high mountain that could not be touched.
Her deepest impressions of him were like the snow on the peak of the mountain and the moon in the human world that seemed to be forever untouchable and unreachable.
