The surroundings fell silent for a moment. The music in the private room switched from an explosive DJ set to a soft, slow love song.
A low, gentle voice began to sing, the words intimate and tender.
But the boy's heartbeat felt out of place, racing uncontrollably.
At the table, Ai Li found a deck of cards and asked if they wanted to play.
Yuan Shimo heard Jiang Qingli agree.
In his peripheral vision, she straightened up.
Her warmth and fragrance pulled away. Before Yuan Shimo could think, he instinctively raised his fingertips and placed them on the back of her hand, which was still braced by her side.
The air conditioning in the room was strong, making the skin on the back of her hand slightly cool. When the boy's warm touch covered it, it felt as if she had been scalded.
Jiang Qingli looked up. A blue pinpoint of light happened to fall, illuminating the boy's handsome, refined face.
He stared at her, his eyes glinting with a fragmented, restrained light.
