Lin Zhiyi was stunned for a moment, then struggled fiercely.
But it only took one hand for Gong Chen to subdue her, his other hand even finding time to pinch out a cigarette.
Lin Zhiyi cursed angrily, "Are you sick?"
Gong Chen didn't answer her, but coldly stared at the young man.
"Get lost."
"What right do you have to make me leave? I'm a guest invited by Miss Lin, and Miss Lin hasn't even spoken yet. Do you know what fair competition means?" the young man retorted dissatisfiedly.
Lin Zhiyi nodded slightly, made a gesture to get up, but as soon as she stood up, Gong Chen pulled her back into his arms.
His hand supported her waist and stomach, pressing slightly, with the warmth of his palm seeping through the fabric, ironing her skin.
Just as she was about to struggle, the man stared at her with pitch-black eyes, his slender fingertips already hooked on the hem of her shirt, even unintentionally caressing the skin around her waist.
Lin Zhiyi trembled all over.