Lan Ruowei lowered her head quietly, her pink cherry lips slightly puckering: "If you won't dance, then I'll dance by myself!"
Shen Yibei stared at those enticing lips, as if they were tempting him to claim them.
How to dance?
Lan Ruowei braced herself and began to sway awkwardly. Her movements were stiff and mechanical.
It looked almost comical.
Perhaps it was her anger, but her entire face was flushed crimson. Her gaze toward Shen Yibei was a mix of confusion and innocence—a pure yet seductive allure that could easily captivate anyone.
A strong surge of possessiveness rose from deep within Shen Yibei.
She was like a blossomed flower, waiting for him to pick.
Everyone exchanged glances, feeling their skin crawl.
It's over.
Completely over.
"Ugh!"
Suddenly, a foul stench permeated the air.
Everyone turned to Lan Ruowei in shock.
Lan Ruowei was hunched over the dining table, vomiting heavily.
