"Father, hug!"
Ji Xuehong's voice rang out again, this time more insistent.
"..."
Wang Xiao stared at her with a complicated expression, hesitating for a moment before finally standing up.
With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around her.
A delicate, almost ethereal scent filled his senses—like white lilies on a cool spring breeze. It was soft and subtle, a different contrast to the fierce warrior she usually portrayed.
Her hands slid up his back, gripping him gently. She rested her face against his shoulder, her eyes closed, breathing deeply.
Wang Xiao stiffened slightly as her chest pressed against him, the softness of her breasts suprising him.
They were being squashed between them, and for a split second, he couldn't help but notice the sensation.
He swallowed, suddenly aware that she likely wasn't wearing anything under the tight t-shirt, the thin fabric offering no barrier between her and him.
