Listening to the teasing, Qiao Mo's face grew paler, her blurred gaze settling on Fu Nancheng.
Hearing the banter of a few friends, he remained silent, only lighting another cigarette, smoking it lazily.
Qiao Mo withdrew her gaze, her two hands hanging by her side gently clenched, her fingertips digging harshly into her flesh.
Sincerity?
A hint of self-mockery slipped through Qiao Mo's eyes.
She had lived for twenty-three years, yet never imagined there would be such a day.
After several seconds, Qiao Mo finally released her hands and stood up.
Step by step, she walked towards the man in front of her.
The short distance of a few meters suddenly seemed extremely long, her previously cold and numb feet now filled with piercing pain, as if each step was taken on a poisoned blade tip.
One step, two steps, three steps...
The already quiet private room turned even quieter.
Every pair of eyes, without exception, was fixed on Qiao Mo.
Finally, Qiao Mo slowly stopped in front of Fu Nancheng, her gaze falling on his crossed legs.
But he clearly had no intention of changing his sitting posture, still smoking while calmly observing Qiao Mo, the two of them in a stalemate.
He didn't move, and neither did Qiao Mo.
Time passed bit by bit, to the point where she was so tense that she felt faint.
Qiao Mo clenched her hands tightly, she knew, a man like him never had much patience, she feared, even if she did this, he would not agree.
Qiao Mo finally moved her gaze away from his trousers, settling instead on his face.
The hazy smoke blurred his features, but it wasn't hard to see his unusually fair skin, handsomeness, and unfathomable depth, like an emperor ruling over all lives, lazily overseeing everything, able to control the whole scene with just a glance or a word.
Qiao Mo's throat tightened inexplicably, her heart trembled ceaselessly, yet from her rosy lips, she squeezed out a few words: "Mr. Fu..."
Amusement flickered in Fu Nancheng's eyes, and he truly uncrossed his legs.
Seeing this, Qiao Mo lowered her gaze, said nothing more, and actually sat sideways on his strong thigh.
As soon as she sat down, a warm hand landed on her waist, through the not-too-thick fabric, she could clearly feel that hand, strong, burning hot.
Qiao Mo stiffened all over, her whole body like a rigid wooden plank.
Before Qiao Mo could regain her senses, her chin ached, lifted by his fingers: "What? Is this all you can manage?"
Facing those deep dark eyes, Qiao Mo felt uneasy, yet she couldn't manage to do as Yan Jiu suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck and acting coy, saying a few sweet words, all would end happily.
Qiao Mo didn't move, but Fu Nancheng's fingers slid from her delicate chin down her elegant neck, landing on her enticing collarbone.
Qiao Mo's heartbeat quickened, her back straightened, every pore in her body seemed to contract, goosebumps rising on her arms in waves.
Swallowing hard, she tightly closed her eyes.
His hand was warm, yet his fingertips carried a strange coolness, everywhere they touched seemed to spark tingling electricity, spreading from Qiao Mo's heart, making her shiver involuntarily.
The curve of his lips deepened slightly.
With a 'click', his index finger traced down her collarbone, easily undoing a button on her clothes.
Qiao Mo's neckline instantly opened up quite a bit, her snow-white skin akin to fine silk, unmistakably glaring under the dim lights.