She hadn't released the medicine powder from her hand when the man was one step ahead, seizing it firmly, trapping her once again between him and the wall.
And this time, his body pressed even closer to hers, an intimacy that made Qiao Ran feel a mix of embarrassment, irritation, and hatred.
"Wen Shimo, you mangy dog of a man, let me go!"
"Miss Qiao, one more time, my name is Han Mo. I simply asked you to look at my wound. If you keep playing tricks, don't blame me for not being polite!"
Han Mo whispered in Qiao Ran's ear, his voice magnetic and husky, his warm breath blowing on her sensitive earlobe, making her feel an indescribable restlessness in her body.
This despicable man, well aware of her every move, still refused to admit that he was Wen Shimo.
The infuriating part was, after two years of training, his skills had improved again, his body radiating a heavy killing intent, and she was no match for him.