Ruan Tianling placed her hand by his lips and kissed it: "If I kiss you like this, will you feel better?"
Jian Yufei smiled and nodded: "Yes, much better."
Ruan Tianling immediately leaned in and kissed her lips—
Jian Yufei parted her lips, his tongue darted inside, like a sly and agile little snake.
Thinking of this metaphor, Jian Yufei suddenly recalled the time in London when she was bitten by a snake, causing her to have psychological trauma related to French kissing.
Back then, to cure her psychological trauma, Ruan Tianling did many heart-pounding, face-blushing things with ice cream.
Recalling that night, Jian Yufei's face uncontrollably reddened.
Ruan Tianling let go of her swollen lips, his fingers caressing her cheek, amusedly asking: "Why is your face so red?"
"Hot..." Jian Yufei lied without even blinking.
Ruan Tianling laughed even more teasingly: "Is it the heat of desire?"
"..." She dug her own grave.
