Struggling to suppress the alcohol stirring inside him, Zhao Dong turned to speak. However, the moment he did, Zhao Qirou threw herself at him. Caught off guard, he was pulled down onto the bed.
"Qirou, what's wrong?" Zhao Dong asked, stunned.
Zhao Qirou gazed at him softly, her eyes slightly red. "Brother, you looked so happy talking with them. Do you even notice me anymore?"
"What are you talking about..." Zhao Dong stammered, feeling awkward.
With her cheeks flushed, Zhao Qirou pursed her lips. She hugged Zhao Dong and murmured against his chest, "Brother, I'm not jealous. I don't care how popular you are or how many women you have. I just... I like you... Brother, let's be together."
Zhao Dong's mind went blank as he stared, dumbfounded, at the girl before him. Before he could react, her crimson lips gently pressed against his.
