Black, ink-like long hair spread across the white pillow, making her delicate face appear even more luscious and radiant.
Yan Ting leaned down slightly, catching a faint scent of alcohol—this woman was drunk.
Was being with Huo Qinglin so enjoyable? She even dared to drink.
His gaze swept over her, already igniting Yan Ting's anger. She had to be punished.
He lowered his face directly, holding her slender, snow-white chin between his thumb and forefinger, covering her lips fiercely with his own.
"Mm…Wei Chen…" Lin Banxia, whose breath was stolen, murmured in confusion as her drowsy and blurred eyes fluttered open, suddenly overlapping the handsome face before her with someone from her memory.
Yan Ting's large palm, propped beside her, froze abruptly, and his lips stopped immediately. His dark and brooding eyes stared intensely at her hazy gaze.
"Wei Chen?" He bit out each word, his teeth clenched, forcing these three syllables through.
