Jing Hao chuckled lightly, his clear eyes tinged red: "Fu Nancheng, she's not yours."
Fu Nancheng's gaze grew increasingly cold and fierce, carrying a hint of menace, as his lips curved into a slight arc: "It seems you are determined to oppose me."
In the long corridor, the two stood facing each other, their eyes like swords and arrows, shooting out cold glimmers that intersected in the air.
Qiao Mo felt a tightness in her heart, clearly sensing a hint of... murderous intent emerging from him.
"Fu Nancheng..."
She spoke softly, and he withdrew his gaze.
As soon as he turned, her kiss fell upon him, covering his lips with a faint taste of wine, distinctly soft.
Qiao Mo placed a hand on his shoulder, slightly tilting her small face upward, somewhat shyly sucking on his lips...
Qiao Mo slowly opened her somewhat dazed eyes to look at him, her gaze carrying a touch of intoxication, slightly blurred.
Fu Nancheng's gaze deepened slightly, his Adam's apple bobbed.
