Hearing Lin Yiren's call, and seeing her charming yet captivating expression, the longing that Xu Wendong had suppressed deeply for years also surged and burned.
His eyes lit up, his mouth dry and his breathing becoming more rapid.
The room was filled with an ambiguous atmosphere, the dim lights draping over the soft bed, as if putting a veil over the private space, adding to the dreamlike haze.
Lin Yiren lay supine on the bed, her ink-like hair spread freely, a few strands playfully resting against her flushed cheeks, further enhancing her snow-like skin.
Her eyes were half-closed, amidst the flow of her gaze there seemed to be shimmering autumn water, brimming with endless allure and charm.
Her slightly parted red lips appeared to silently issue an enticing invitation, the breath she exhaled carried a burning heat, blending with the quiet yet tension-filled ambiance.
