Li Xianyun's tiny heart was filled to the brim, and this feeling inexplicably soothed her sorrow.
She must have been crazy to let Yelu Yan do such a thing.
Yelu Yan picked up the new undergarments and slipped her delicate white foot into them, and then the other foot, slowly pulling up her undergarments.
But in the end, he was a man in the prime of his life––a man who had been repressed for so long.
Yelu Yan, ultimately unable to restrain himself, followed the clamor of body and mind, bent down to pick up Li Xianyun, and kissed her fiercely, with passionate entanglement.
His arms were so strong, his chest so firm, his body burning hot, yearning loudly within his heart.
Yelu Yan had long since realized that his life was in Li Xianyun's hands; with just a beckon of her finger, he was willing to crawl at her feet like a slave, to be dispatched by her, willing to do anything for her, even if it meant sacrificing his life.
He was completely lost in the gentle world of Li Xianyun.
