Xia Lihua was actually relieved to be out of the underground base. The damp, suffocating air and the nauseating stench of blood, decay and mold still clung faintly to her senses. She took a deep breath of the fresh night air.
The car ride back to Yang Lingyun's penthouse was steeped in silence. All she could hear was the beating of her own heart.
She had kissed Yang Lingyun—not just let him kiss her, but kissed him back with a desperate intensity that still burned on her lips. What shocked her even more was how natural it had felt...
Beside her, Yang Lingyun sat stiffly with his knuckles resting on his lips. He occasionally glanced in her direction and could barely hide his nervousness. Neither of them spoke, the tension stretching like a taut string.
When the car finally stopped in front of the towering building, they got out of the car quietly, walking side by side. The elevator ride up felt eternal.
