Watching him affectionately embrace Zhiyan, Young Master Qing Jue's heart soured, an unbearable emotion erupting forth, a pained expression covering his face, jealousy and dissatisfaction fiercely colliding with his soul.
That gaze was too intense, Ming Yihan found it difficult to ignore. With a slight upward curve of his thin lips, he suddenly lowered his head and pressed a kiss to Zhiyan's forehead, as if making a vow, perhaps a provocation, or maybe just to show his affection.
Zhiyan's delicate body shuddered, yet did not explain anything, still obediently nestled in his neck.
Young Master Qing Jue's body shook violently, fists clenched, eyes burning with unwilling jealousy as pain filled his dark pupils.
