Upon entering the private room and ordering dishes,
Xing Ling played with her phone.
Ignoring Ye Sihan across from her.
As she focused on her scrolling, she felt her phone being snatched away.
"Give it back to me." Xing Ling reached out to grab it back, but her hand was held tightly, preventing her from pulling away, which made her face flush with anger, "Ye Sihan, don't touch me!"
"This isn't touching," Ye Sihan leaned in close to her.
The distance between the table was not wide, and with Ye Sihan's tall stature, as he leaned forward, his breath could brush against her face.
"Going to bed would be touching." Ye Sihan's one hand held hers, while his other hand stroked her face. "This doesn't count."
Xing Ling stiffened her body.
When the knock on the door sounded, she wanted to retreat, but she simply couldn't because her hand was in Ye Sihan's palm.
The strength of this man's grip made her wonder if she was clamped down by a pair of iron pincers.
