This feeling is like a plump fruit, with excellent aroma and color, that you spot from a distance. You climb over the fence and past the hunting dogs, and your clothes get torn in the process of climbing the tree. Just when you're about to taste it, the farmer tells you that there's pesticide on it, and you can't eat it now.
With her body freed, Nan Wan hopped off the dining table, holding the overturned bowls and chopsticks in her hand, and walked towards the kitchen.
Her lips curved, "...Oh."
This inconspicuous syllable, however, carried a very obvious provocative meaning.
Mu Jin Huan looked at that slender figure, his temples throbbing.
He closed his eyes for a moment, ran his hand through his still-wet short hair somewhat irritably.
With long strides, he entered the bathroom again, but this time the water was cold.
After cleaning up the kitchen, Nan Wan deliberately lingered for a while before heading to the living room.
