Fu Cai stared at him with tearful eyes, like a frightened little animal, pressing tightly against the mirror, her hands clenched into fists, wanting to cry but stubbornly holding back.
Zhao Baoyan watched as her lips kept trembling; already weighed down by her psychological shadow, she was deeply tense in the face of Young Mr. Song's forceful intimacy.
"What are you doing?"
Young Mr. Song didn't get a clear look at the man's face, only that he was male, strong, and had interrupted his "good moment."
Zhao Baoyan stood half a head taller than him, paired with an innate aura of intimidation; a mere glance from him was enough to render Young Mr. Song dispirited.
Wasn't this the illegitimate son the Zhao Family had recently reclaimed?
But he wouldn't dare utter such a thing in Zhao Baoyan's presence.
"This is my girlfriend—you're overstepping, aren't you?"