His presence exuded a powerful aura, like a born king.
As Wen Xian walked in, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the hazy silhouette in the bathtub.
Enshrouded in mist, he seemed even more mysterious and elusive.
The curve of his profile was cold and resolute, perfect.
Below, his collarbones, and the strong, broad arms, were faintly visible.
Wen Xian was so captivated that she almost spaced out, tears nearly spilling from her mouth.
"What's with the dawdling? You're that reluctant?"
Suddenly, the man in the bathtub looked over. Through the blurring steam, his sharp eyes pierced through her, as if to see right through her.
Wen Xian's legs nearly gave out as she hurried over, "I'm here, I'm here, how could I be reluctant? I'm more than willing."
However, just as she reached the edge of the bathtub, suddenly her feet slipped—
"Ah...!"
