He Xing instinctively wanted to push Xia Ning away, but for some reason, a surge of warmth rose from his abdomen. His reason told him he should push Xia Ning away, yet his hands, seemingly out of control, held tightly onto Xia Ning's waist.
It was as if there was an electric current passing from He Xing's palms into Xia Ning's body. All her strength seemed to vanish thread by thread, and she hung limply in front of He Xing like a pendant.
However, she was still clear-headed inside, knowing full well that her hard work was paying off. Now she just had to wait for the raw rice to be cooked thoroughly, the die was cast, and there was absolutely no turning back.
Xia Ning slightly tilted her head up, her watery eyes softly gazing at He Xing. Her cherry lips proactively moved closer. She was certain that this time, she would finally be able to kiss He Xing.
