Lu Zhendong, perhaps driven by the alcohol, did not push her away.
Smelling the familiar scent on her, he responded passionately.
At first, she was timid and frightened, afraid of being rejected as she had been that morning, but to her surprise, she received his response.
Emboldened, she moved her lips to leave her mark on his forehead, eyes, cheeks, and chin.
Lu Zhendong, his body reeking of alcohol, was kissed wildly by her, his voice hoarse and deep, "Ming Ran?"
But Ming Ran did not respond to him, continuing her fervent onslaught.
Only when she heard Lu Zhendong's breathing become heavier did she lean close to his ear and whisper softly, "Uncle, I like you. Can we be together?"
It was as if a night from many years ago, the same voice, the same initiative.
Lu Zhendong thought he was dreaming. He had dreamed of this scenario countless times in his dreams, but none was as real as this time.
