As the clouds dispersed, the moonlight shone bright.
Ming Yue drew her into his embrace.
The girl bashfully buried her head into the man's chest.
To continue or to stop?
The decision was in her hands.
Wen Fucheng placed the decision into Ying Jing's hands.
She was very curious if what she said truly counted to him.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed him looking at her too.
Ying Jing was too familiar with that look; she had seen it countless times in the mirror, it was the look of her deep love for Wen Fucheng.
Not taking advantage is a fool's folly.
Ying Jing, like a small thief who got a pardon, tugged at the man's sleeve, gently swaying it a few times.
"Uncle. Kiss me again!"
His kiss was sweet like cloying sugar.
Making her crave it repeatedly, still unsatisfied.
She was proactive and passionate, unabashedly laying her desires before the man.
Smiling like a drunk fox, she proudly nuzzled his chin.
