Young Master Yan, we're not shooting a soap opera! Hmm...
...
After the kiss ended, Mu Yiliang's eyes rolled, and she nearly passed out.
Yan Sijue gently caressed her chin, his breath heavy, gaze burning: "Still dare to say you haven't fallen for me?"
Mu Yiliang's whole body went limp, stars danced before her eyes, unable to utter a single word.
Yan Sijue chuckled lowly, in an extremely good mood, lightly pecked her slightly swollen lips: "Let's see where else you dare to run to."
Mu Yiliang regretted her choices immensely.
"Yan... Young Master Yan..." she spoke weakly.
"What did you call me?" Yan Sijue snorted discontentedly.
He realized that when she called him "President Yan," it was to draw a line between them, but calling him "Young Master Yan" carried a hint of intimacy, though mostly playful.
However, none of these were what he wanted.