Li Qiao'er hugged him tightly, almost pressing her entire body against Wang Xiaolong's.
The faint scent that hit him stirred Wang Xiaolong's emotions, and the prominent, full curve clearly discernible in front of him seemed like a spark about to burst in an autumn rice field, as if it might ignite completely at any moment.
Before this, Wang Xiaolong had thought that after receiving the inheritance, his foolish illness had already been cured.
However, when he now looked down at Li Qiao'er, at her bright red makeup, that feeling of being driven by a nightmare surged up from the depths of his heart.
It was as if some magic made him unable to resist treating the delicate beauty in front of him as his newly wedded bride, desiring to pounce on her and love her dearly.
Involuntarily, his breathing became rapid, and his blood began to boil.
Feeling the changes in Wang Xiaolong's body, Li Qiao'er's cheeks blushed with shyness, her heart both fearful and anticipative.
