Yang Fei looked at her rosy lips, which were tender and translucent, giving them an agate-like appearance.
His heart stirred with tender emotions as he embraced Su Yinxue and sighed deeply.
In the distance, the beacon lights on the river added a unique warmth and romance to the melancholic night.
They also stretched the figures entwined with each other, casting shadows that were exceptionally beautiful.
Su Yinxue was different from Zhang Lifang.
She seemed like a fragile porcelain doll; any action from Yang Fei could hurt her sensitive heart.
After all, this girl with a frosty exterior and a fragile heart had borne too much sorrow and suffering for over twenty years.
Any rough action could easily repulse her.
A few minutes later, when the evening breeze grew colder, Yang Fei whispered by Su Yinxue's ear, "Shall we go back to the car?"
Yang Fei's hand gently caressed Su Yinxue's shoulder as he opened the car door for her.
