Song Qing's eyes revealed surprise; she hadn't expected the second master to spare her. The melancholy between her brows turned into confusion, showing a complex astonishment.
Huo Yirong closed his eyes, choosing not to look at her. Fine beads of sweat slid down his forehead, falling onto the blue quilt and staining it dark.
His posture was somewhat careless, yet he exuded a tremendous power, as if his life had undergone some sublime transformation.
The mischievous curve that usually played on his lips was suppressed, and the ends of his long, piercing eyes were tinged with red, adding a touch of allure.
This irresistibly sexy and enchanting aspect of Huo Yirong was clearly reflected in Song Qing's eyes, quickening her heartbeat. Her lackluster eyes sparked with vivid emotions, and her numb body also reacted strangely.
With his eyes firmly closed and feeling irritable, Huo Yirong quickly sensed this subtle change.
