His gaze landed on her face, silently holding back his words.
His large hand remained still, as if seeking her approval.
Looking at the suppressed veins on his forehead and the deep sweat, for a moment, Qiao Mo couldn't help but feel a touch of compassion...
The heat from under him persisted, scorching.
"Xiao Mo."
Not having received an answer for a long time, he spoke in a deep voice, his hoarse tone like a dry well, carrying a hint of longing.
Qiao Mo felt somewhat guilty, lowering her eyes to avoid his gaze.
"I... I... I want to drink some water."
After hesitating for a long time, she finally thought of a clumsy excuse.
Fu Nancheng's eyes could barely hide the disappointment as he lay on her for a while before finally getting up to pour her some water.
But as soon as he stood up, he immediately saw the drawing paper not far away.
The paper had fallen earlier, and now it was completely unfurled.
A tall figure leapt out on the paper, seemingly just like him.
