Before she could jerk her hand away from Ji Muye's grasp, Lu Xining's other hand was seized by Zhou Jiawang, her beautiful almond-shaped eyes darting back and forth in frustration.
Lu Xining: "Let go."
She strained to pull her hand free but to no avail; instead, the grip tightened, and she was utterly speechless at the behavior of both men.
If being speechless had a form, at this very moment, three dark lines would surely have slid down Lu Xining's forehead—when would these two men ever stop!
One was as indifferent as ice, the other as gentle as water; Ji Muye and Zhou Jiawang's gazes collided in mid-air, neither loosening their hold on her.
Lu Xining gritted her teeth: "I'm going to say it one more time, let go!"
Zhou Jiawang, sensing the rage in her voice, released her hand first. Lowering his eyes to check her wrist, worried that his grip might have hurt her, little did he know that as soon as he let go, someone else pulled her away.