Seemingly tinted with his coolness, Gu Qili's mind suddenly froze as if a clock had stopped.
Soon, it was as if her whole body was electrified.
She was surrounded by his alcoholic breath, hammered by her own terrifying heartbeat, and the heat on her face burned her limbs scorching hot.
Feeling that searing temperature, the rich aroma of red wine, the unique fragrance of the man, Gu Qili felt dizzy as if flying in the clouds, surrounded by vast expanses of clouds, floating and drifting, completely as if hovering in mid-air, unable to find an exit, utterly lost.
"Xiaoyu." Until the deeply kissing man murmured in a low voice, which seemed to roll out from his throat, still carrying a hint of alcohol.
Gu Qili suddenly opened her eyes, as if falling straight from the clouds, landing on all fours, the pain piercing her heart.
Xiaoyu, it was this Xiaoyu again.
She extended her hands, clasped them on Mu Shuoqian's chest, and with an outward push, she pushed him away.
