Well, now both of them have turned into soaked chickens.
Li Wenli curved his lips slightly, his hands once again wrapping around Bai Junjun's waist.
"I've recently read a rather nice poem, care for some poetic appraisal, Miss Bai? 'On the southern mountain, one osmanthus tree, upon it a pair of mandarin ducks. For a thousand years, they intertwine necks, passionate love never forgotten.'
Li Wenli spoke as he lowered his head and bit her lips lightly.
At midnight, under the sparse stars and moon, only the sound of the water stirred in waves, echoing rhythmically.
Li Wenli, having gained the upper hand, was just about to unite with Miss Bai like the mandarin ducks when suddenly, a harrowing wail echoed from next door.
The two were instantly stunned, and at that moment, their clothes were only partly removed and in complete disarray — caught in the throes of passion. Yet, the piercing wail interrupted their moment.
Upon closer listening, the voice resembled Ah Dao's somewhat.
