Ning Yanan caught that glint of mischief in his eyes and was certain that Jiang Jinchen had done it on purpose.
With Ning Yanan's temperament, not slapping him would already be letting him off easy.
She opened her mouth and then, suddenly, fell silent.
Bending over, she grasped the half-torn skirt hem and gave a forceful tug.
She had torn off a circle around her calf.
The long dress had become a short one, and her tall figure now exuded a different kind of vibe.
If Jiang Jinchen hadn't seen her tear the dress with his own eyes, he would have definitely thought such a design was intentional.
Ning Yanan raised her head, glanced at him, didn't say a word, and turned to go upstairs.
Jiang Jinchen stood in the living room, watching her leave. It felt like a punch to his chest; he was so stifled he couldn't catch his breath.
Was she really holding back, or did she feel that even speaking to him was a waste of saliva?
