What Yu Zexiao disliked the most was spraying perfume on himself. Unless there was a special reason, he didn't like standing with those female celebrities who enveloped themselves in a floral bouquet...
Thinking about it carefully, this fragrance seemed somewhat familiar?
Jian Anning forcefully opened her eyelids, and the first thing that came into view was a shaking carriage. The exquisite interior and the leather sofa she was sitting on seemed to suggest—this didn't seem to be the car she usually took?
She struggled to sit up; why was her head so heavy? It felt like it was filled with gel, and even her thoughts were much slower than usual. Her eyelids felt as if they were weighted, and she had to exert great effort just to open them slightly.
Even someone as dull as Jian Anning realized that something was amiss.
She definitely sensed something wrong; otherwise, why would she feel so sleepy?
