It was nine o'clock at night.
Sun Weimeng swept through the Huo Family's small villa like a swarm of locusts, taking with him the Madame Le and the small toys.
Only one box of the old Madame Le remained in the drawer, the very one that had been unsealed back in Moon Village.
The man's slender fingers pinched the box, and he looked at Qiao Xi, asking, "Shall we use it up? If not, it will expire."
He was blunt, making no effort to hide his coveting gaze towards her.
Qiao Xi's almond eyes were bright yet shy, and her voice soft as she said, "I don't like to waste either."
The implication was very clear.
Huo Xingzhou laughed softly, his excitement and pleasure visibly filling the air. His pale fingers touched the zipper on her back, the calluses from years of writing brushing against her skin.
A tingling sensation.
