One of Mu Sihan's hands was supporting himself against the wall above Nan Zhi's head, while his other hand held onto Nan Zhi's slender waist tightly. Looking down at her, his eyes were as dark as two wormholes, deep and dangerous.
When he spoke, his voice was low and magnetic, sounding like a rich alcohol that had been fermented for a long time with a magic that made people drunk on his voice.
Nan Zhi's heart skipped a beat.
Looking up into his eyes, her lips curled up. "That means that you will go, right?"
Mu Sihan stared at the woman being held between his chest and the wall. She had tied her brown hair into a bun, exposing her pretty face and delicate neck completely, making her look even more exquisite and pretty.
When she smiled slightly, her dimples appeared to make her even more stunning.
