The school had already finished for the day, and there were barely any students left, creating a tranquil silence where the footsteps of the three individuals—some heavy, some hesitant, some chaotic—were easily distinguishable in the hallway.
Lan Yurui, perhaps truly frightened, clung to Xu Hu, her small hand gripping his arm tightly, not daring to let go for even a second.
This caused Xu Hu's mind to gradually become restless; after all, whether it was Lan Yurui's scratching grasp or the occasional delightful touch of skin, it set the blood of this nearly twenty-year bachelor on fire, making it near boiling point.
His face also gradually turned red, his blood rising in a flush.
At this moment, he almost wished he could fight that ghostly thing that frightened Lan Yurui for three hundred rounds, completely gone was his earlier exhaustion.
"Huff—"
