"Young Master, should I take them down now?" Leike hesitated to ask.
Bo Yeyuan held Li Qiyu tightly in his arms, his brows furrowed, seeking her opinion.
Li Qiyu nodded, "Before I interrogate her, don't subject her to any more torture."
"She's now your hostage, I'm leaving her to your disposal," Bo Yeyuan's long fingers gently combed through her hair, "I gave you this surprise to make you happy, not to bring you to tears. Li Qiyu, lift your face and look at me!"
Li Qiyu kept her face buried in his chest, adamantly refusing to look up, her small hands clutching at his waist.
She greedily breathed in his scent, his warmth, unwilling to part with him for even a moment.
In the past, the thought of death was a release, while living was torture. But now that she had finally grown attached to everything about him, she found herself out of time to live a good life. How cruel.