The people up ahead are noisy, but I don't know what's happened.
Yet Ming Xian hears nothing, he just stares blankly at the face enlarged before his eyes.
Ming Xian feels Chuzheng's soft tongue slowly licking and nibbling at his lips, a bit ticklish, but more full of ambiguity and a strange sensation.
Ming Xian suddenly pushes Chuzheng away, and she steps back a few paces.
Leaning against the railing, Ming Xian presses the back of his hand against his lips, eyeing her sideways.
Chuzheng stands there with a calm expression.
As if the person just now who acted indecently towards him wasn't her at all.
The wind slightly lifts her skirt, she's clearly so close, within reach.
Yet Ming Xian feels that she is so far from him.
Like being separated by mountains and seas, by thousands of peaks.
Inaccessible.
As unreal as a dream.
The Demon Head, who is unafraid of killing, is having palpitations, feeling fear.
