The fingers lifted the mask, revealing a familiar, gentle, and handsome face slowly illuminated by the broken light of a glazed lamp through the hazy mist.
The assassin before her was unmistakably Nan.
But the look in his eyes toward Wen Shu was icy, as if he were looking at a complete stranger.
"You..."
Wen Shu's grip relaxed a bit, but unexpectedly, Nan suddenly struck!
The male in front of her abruptly pushed himself up, causing her to stagger backward repeatedly.
With a long arm, he tightly clasped her soft wrist, swiftly pulling her back into the bath, firmly pinning her in his embrace.
The situation reversed instantly.
Her mouth was covered by a coarse hand, her body pressed tightly against the male's chest.
Wen Shu couldn't move or make a sound, but she showed no panic, only worry, staring into those amber eyes.
Noticing her gaze, Nan's brow furrowed, inexplicably feeling a strange sense of... familiarity?
