She dared not make a move, her gaze rigidly fixed on Xu Qingyan's neck. She didn't dare to look into his eyes for fear that she wouldn't be able to hold back from speaking her mind.
His fingers had left, but a faint burning sensation remained on her face. It spread bit by bit, soon making her entire body slightly feverish and her chest feel a bit stuffy.
The heat of the surroundings, the bonfire, the distant crowd, it all seemed to freeze in that moment.
Night had fallen, and at this point, it was time to eat.
Ji Chen had cooled down, so the feast began ahead of schedule.
Pei Muchan sat at the dining table, surrounded by her studio's staff. Xu Qingyan had taken the seat next to her, and since sitting down, he had scarcely stopped moving.
He was either being toasted or livening up the atmosphere, making him seem more like the boss of Chanming Studio than Pei Muchan herself, but the mood was nevertheless lively.
