"Xiao Yihe, do you have a death wish?" Huo Zhanting, rarely losing control, had frost filling his dark eyes, and his entire presence emanated an endless stream of coldness.
His hand tightened bit by bit around An Lan's waist, making the already chilling winter day even more bone-chilling.
An Lan gasped in pain, her hand reaching out to cover the large hand Huo Zhanting had wrapped around her waist. She could distinctly feel the bulging veins on the back of his hand, causing her heart to skip a beat. She knew Huo Zhanting was far from composed as he appeared on the surface. She leaned into his embrace without saying a word.
She thought that perhaps this might make Huo Zhanting feel a little better.
