You Resemble A Dead Person

They held each other for a while when Ji Weixi's legs went soft and leaned deeper into Li Shaoling's arms.

"Such poor stamina," he said. "You need training."

Ji Weixi glared at him coldly.

And his stamina was fine?

After tidying up, Ji Weixi went to get a ring with Li Shaoling, hand in hand.

His fingers were thin unlike the thick, coarse fingers of other men—in fact, his fingers were almost feminine: narrow and tender, just short of girly as his veins protruded over the back of his hand.

Ji Weixi whipped out her debit card after picking the most trending style of the season, but did not let the attendant swipe it immediately.

She turned to Li Shaoling. "How much was that ring you proposed to me with?"

"Around five million." Li Shaoling said nonchalantly as if he didn't care about it at all.

"…"

Ji Weixi determinedly submitted her debit card to the attendant.