Qin Lianqi leaned in close, accompanied by the nightfall and the moonlight obscured by dark clouds—everything was blocked, enveloped, concealed, devoured.
At that moment, his eyes were entirely veiled by a crimson mist. With a stretch of his hand, he could see a silhouette under the moonlight. At such a time, even the most composed man would be seduced by the scene before him, let alone Qin Lianqi who was sitting there, with his most beloved woman before him, and she had taken the initiative.
Such a beautiful scene was something he had only seen in dreams.
Su Zhiruan felt like a small cabbage, quietly being peeled open, with only the soft rustling noise in the air. The sound was faint, but it felt like she had shifted her position.
"Don't worry, I'll be gentle…"