By the time Yan Mengqing had finished washing up and walked out in her silk nightgown, assisted by the suite's aide, what she saw was a sculpture frozen and stern, shrouded in the shadows by the window.
The living room lights were off, and the stars and neon outside only illuminated a small patchwork of light. Su Huai sat on the sofa against this scattered radiance, his well-defined face carved by swathes of shadows into silent peaks and the cliffs and rivers of terrains.
Oh my God!
What is this deadly atmosphere?!
Yan Mengqing screamed frantically in her mind, her body turning to mush under the sexual tension encapsulated in this scene.
This moment, all the fantasies about top-tier, super-domineering CEO T0-level sexy male idols flooded her mind, giving physical form to her fleeting aspirations.
Lights flickered, shadows loomed, contrasts framed, the incomplete beauty like a painting.
