Jiang Qingli never imagined she would be caught being handsy with five men at once.
What she expected even less was for her own hand, under all that pressure, to give another two mischievous squeezes.
Two voices surfaced in her mind.
One was screaming: 'Stop it, you damned hand!'
The other weakly retorted, 'But it feels so good…'
But aside from Baili Jing, none of the other men looked pleased.
Ye Linyuan narrowed his golden, slitted pupils. His cold, sinister gaze shifted upward to land on Baili Jing's face.
Yi Nuo clutched the terminal in his hand, subconsciously taking half a step forward before stopping. He remained in place, lowering his gaze, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Qin Muye, who was closest, saw everything perfectly. His eyes burned with rage, and his grip on Baili Jing's collar tightened. "You—"
