Leng Youchen had originally meant to tease her, but now his anger flared up as well. With one strong grip, he seized her wrist, easily raising her hand above her head and pinning it against the Flamingo's wing.
His breath sprayed with fury, and his phoenix eyes concealed a fierce gleam, "Sharp-tongued, weren't you softened by my kisses just now?"
Anning struggled in a panic, bumping into the man's cold and angry phoenix eyes, and she suddenly froze. Those eyes were just too familiar. If she were to put a mask on him, could it be...
Her heart suddenly started pounding violently. She had encountered the masked man three times: twice it was night, and once when she had stumbled into the Primeval Forest. If Leng Youchen was faking a limp, then...
A bold speculation suddenly emerged in her heart. If they were the same person, then all the bizarre incidents that had occurred to her would be explained.
Could it be him?
Could it really be him?
