The raging storm had just subsided, and the crabapple blossoms that had endured so much swayed in the wind, drenched for the first time.
It felt like an electric shock, not painful, yet every bone in the body tingled numb.
At the last moment, there was a flash of white light before Yu Tingwan's eyes, and Wei Zhao's back was marked with red traces from fingertips.
He hadn't yet withdrawn, seeing the girl's gaze unfocused, her face with an abnormal flush, he chuckled lowly.
Yu Tingwan couldn't speak, but she still mustered all her strength to give him a punch.
But how could Wei Zhao feel pain?
He buried his face into the girl's neck, planting tiny, dense kisses: "Was it that comfortable?"
Yu Tingwan, ashamed and annoyed, was about to urge him to leave quickly when she heard a tentative knock on the door outside.
Though tentative, Hu Dongxi couldn't control his strength well, making a loud banging sound.
There were only a few people coming and going serving in Lan Garden.
