Shen Jianian struggled desperately in Fu Jichen's arms, pounding on his shoulders. His arm firmly encircled her waist, his large hand gripping the back of her neck tightly. No matter how she flailed, he refused to let her go.
A drunk person's strength was surprisingly strong, how had she thought he was at a disadvantage before?
Shen Jianian, filled with rage, opened her mouth and bit him mercilessly, tasting the metallic flavor of blood. He finally released her in pain, and she took the opportunity to retreat from his embrace, raising one hand high, ready to slap him hard like last time, to show him she was not someone to be trifled with.
The slap never fell because she saw the tear at the corner of Fu Jichen's eye. He frowned, murmuring her name, "Shen Jianian."
This time she was sure she did not see wrong. The crystalline liquid sliding down his eye was indeed a tear.
