"Beautiful miss, that's how it is."
The magician lowered his voice, murmuring in a tone only the two of them could hear: "That gentleman is the man of your dreams, apart from him, no one else has made your heart race like this."
Yan Xiaye felt something strange inside, hesitantly asking, "Heart race?"
"That's right, heart race." The magician casually affirmed, "When you look at him, your heart beats faster, your cheeks warm, you want to possess him, and be possessed by him... You can touch your cheeks and chest, is it like this?"
In the midst of it all, she was bewitched.
Yan Xiaye's clear eyes lost their usual vitality, dazed and bewildered as she lifted her hand and gently pressed it against her chest.
The magician's pale lips curled with an inscrutable smile, whispering like a loyal servant, "This is not an impulsive illusion, but your sincere feelings for each other. When he explores every inch of your skin with his fingers, you joyfully match his every movement..."
