The protagonist's inner voice seemed to be Jiang Man's at this very moment.
That heart-pounding, indescribable sensation was an experience she had never had before.
It was strange, but at the same time, it drove her crazy.
Her heart felt as if it was being incessantly tickled by a feather, yet also as if it was being scorched by fire.
Initially, the man's large hand merely enveloped the back of her hand, transmitting his scorching warmth.
Suddenly, in a moment when Jiang Man wasn't paying attention, his large hand flipped her smaller one.
His fingertips sought the gaps between hers until their fingers were interlocked.
Once gripped firmly, she tried to pull away, but he would not let go.
Jiang Man felt restless, her eyes glued to the screen, but her mind was no longer on the plot.
The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by the flickering light of the screen.
The surroundings, eroded by darkness, amplified the world of senses.
"Lu Xingzhou, let go," she said.
