She was wedged tightly between him and the bookshelf, with no space to breathe.
The warmth emanating from his body made her afraid to breathe, as if fearing that even the slightest breath could be sensed by him, who was pressing close against her.
This feeling was overwhelmingly shameful.
Sheng Qianxia suppressed her breath and bit her lip as she said, "So, you didn't actually see the contents of the folder?"
She was terrified!
She really didn't understand, what was the meaning of him pressing her for her secrets?
Allowing her to like him?
Or—just as before, was it merely a warning not to delude herself?
Whichever it was, it seemed they were never on equal footing.
He merely forced her into a corner where she couldn't resist, recklessly squandering her emotions, controlling everything between them.
She didn't want this kind of degrading love that came and went at his whim.
Her liking, her existence, should be free and unbound.
