Qiao Xi smelled a sour scent in the air and, holding back a laugh, asked, "Is there?"
She wasn't concerned about Young Master Zhong, but rather the face that resembled Ayi's.
"Yes."
Qiao Xi moved closer to him, "Even the strands of hair smell sour."
"You were shouting that name all night in your dreams last night," Huo Xingzhou's eyes softened, his tone mildly accusing.
He was domineering.
He only allowed her to think of him.
The closer he got to her heart, the more he felt that a large part of it belonged to that other person. Regardless of the emotion, Huo Xingzhou cared.
"I'm sorry."
Qiao Xi wrapped her arms around his muscular waist and stood on her tiptoes to press her red lips against his thin ones.
Her initiative greatly dissipated the resentment in him.
A slight smile appeared on Huo Xingzhou's jade-like face as he lightly tapped her red lips with his fingertip, "This is sweet."
Knock, knock.
Someone knocked on the office door.
