Late at night.
The bedroom was pitch-dark.
Qiao Ruoxin slept soundly in the arms of the man behind her, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
She gently removed the man's arm from around her waist and then tenderly got out of bed.
Taking a pen and paper, she sat alone on the terrace, nestled into the outdoor sofa.
Glancing at the sleeping figure of the man in the bed, a smile formed on Qiao Ruoxin's lips.
Looking up at the endless night sky, she suddenly felt inspired to write a song.
Qiao Ruoxin wrote down four words on the paper: His Obsession.
Then, as Mo Chen's image came to mind, she couldn't help but laugh.
The night was tranquil as she leaned back on the outdoor sofa, her pen dancing back and forth across the paper.
...
The next day, early morning.
Mo Chen's towering figure stood in front of the bathroom sink, using an electric razor, his proud chin lathered with white foam, exuding an indescribable handsomeness and sexiness.
"Let me help you!"
