"I... I don't need it. Cut it out."
Chang Xuyu turned her head away, pursed her lips, and muttered softly. Yet, somehow, two blushes had crept onto her cheeks.
Yi Zhuo watched her, his usually indifferent gaze burning with intensity. From his perspective, Chang Xuyu's evasive manner made her look like a rabbit. Maybe it was because the room was too warm, but her little face was flushed, fair and tender.
Chang Xuyu was quietly trying to free her hand from his grip. Bit by bit, slowly, she attempted to pull back, but he held her fast.
The onlookers saw their tightly clasped hands and sensed Chang Xuyu's resistance, momentarily at a loss.
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