"This gentleman…"
Just as Fu Jiu began speaking, the clock began chiming.
"Gong!"
What this indicated was clear to all.
It was fifteen minutes to midnight.
The pleasant sound of waltz played punctually.
Fu Jiu saw the man standing in front of her and reached out his black-gloved hand with an emotionless expression. "Hand it over."
Hand what over? Fu Jiu pricked up her eyebrows.
"Hand."
That voice seemed to spurn her for being stupid.
Fu Jiu still didn't move.
She was trying to refuse the dance. How could she dance upon request?
Qin Mo looked at her fuzzy head with his two deep eyes, emotionless; but deep in the bottom of his eyes, he knew that someone was thinking of getting away with his understanding of him.
What a pity… that at this point, she was still unwilling to dance with him.
How could he let someone escape so easily.
