Lisa subtly moved closer to him, her arm gently brushed against his sleeve, and her dress almost touched his trousers. Satisfied, she lifted her head, a naive curiosity across her face, and asked, "Mr. Yin, what masterpiece have you been working on recently?"
Yin Feng's gaze rested on her petite face and slender neck, thinking: what could you possibly understand about what I write? He glanced down at her with a smile and said, "Not writing much."
His lackadaisical tone and the faint smile at the corner of his mouth made Lisa's heart flutter. She had heard before that Yin Feng was quite a charmer, and it certainly seemed true. He had a way of making a woman's heart flutter with a single word.
Observing that the others were eating, seemingly purposefully ignoring them, Lisa tiptoed, making herself almost lean onto his chest, but her voice retained a sweet and innocent tone. "Mr. Yin, won't you indulge your fan?" she cooed.
