Qin Muye, with the girl's finger in his mouth, froze solid at her words.
His gray-blue eyes widened, then showed a hint of confusion, as if he had only just remembered that was a thing.
After a moment's daze, Qin Muye lowered his head, his voice awkward. "Then..."
The last few words were very soft and mumbled.
Jiang Qingli asked, "What?"
The young man's ears turned red. He frowned, and after a good while, he leaned in close to Jiang Qingli's ear.
Just as he was about to speak, the doorbell rang.
Jiang Qingli turned her head, her lips accidentally brushing against his.
It was as if a jolt of electricity shot through them, and they both froze.
A few seconds later, Qin Muye suddenly dipped his head and bit down on her lip, crushing his mouth against hers with fierce intensity.
This wasn't their first kiss.
But he seemed to be like this every time.
Fervent, direct, intense—the burgeoning emotion was almost enough to melt a person.
