Mr. Song's left hand, wielding a wristwatch, was also holding a document. His western pants covered long legs, and his white shirt cuffs were rolled up to reveal forearms that were both muscular and firm, a toughness that belied his scholarly appearance. Hearing the threat behind him, he did not turn but instead cooperatively raised his hands.
"Don't move." Tang Li said, reaching out to close the office door.
The moment the door was nearly shut, her hand shaped like a gun, pressing against Song Baiyan's lower back on the right side, was seized. By the time she realized what was happening, she had been yanked forward by a forceful pull.
Crashing into the man's chest, Tang Li found herself in an awkward situation where her attempted sneak attack had backfired.
Subconsciously, she grabbed onto the corner of Song Baiyan's shirt.
Her waist was gently embraced.
