Just as she was about to scratch the center of his palm in return, the man's fingers suddenly tightened, grasping her hand firmly.
Ji Anning's heart trembled abruptly; she tilted her head slightly to look at Ji Chicheng.
The corners of his mouth seemed to be curling into a faint smile, a tender warmth spreading at the corners of his eyes.
Ji Anning pursed her lips tightly, looked down, and giggled foolishly.
She slowly opened her fingers, interlocking them tightly with the man's large hand.
...
It wasn't until the entire soccer match had ended that they let go of each other's hands. Ji Anning stood up, looked at Ji Chicheng with a slightly flushed face, "Uncle, I'm going to go back to sleep first."
Ji Chicheng's face remained expressionless; he did not respond to her.
Ji Anning pouted, thinking to herself that this man was back to putting on his pretentious act.
