Tang Yanqi could forcibly maintain her composure in front of Sheng Jianan. She could turn a blind eye to Sheng Jianan's indifference and sarcasm toward her. She could wrap herself in armor to protect herself, but only she knew that this composure, this blind eye, this armor propped up with effort, seemed indestructible, yet would shatter at the slightest touch.
He was the young man she liked, the dazzling sun in her dreary life, the man she wanted to love but dared not, wanted to love but couldn't.
Tang Yanqi's eyes gradually became moist. Sheng Jianan's kiss made her heart race, and it also hurt her heart. She couldn't push him away; could she indulge herself just a little? Just a little.
Tang Yanqi slowly closed her eyes. She didn't respond, merely passively accepting Sheng Jianan's kiss, feeling the man wantonly sweeping through her mouth.
