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Because Zhao Changhe had not taken advantage of her condition, the lack of direct contact meant the witchcraft’s reaction toward him had not been pushed to its limit. Ye Wuming, though her body burned with lust, was not completely defenseless. She was quietly resisting, methodically gathering her strength, preparing to strike him hard the moment he dared pounce.
And then he said that. Her already-struggling CPU simply gave her the good old BSoD.
Instead of making a move on her during this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he’s talking about that? Three letters and six protocols? What the hell is he on about?
After a long silence, Ye Wuming finally spoke, incredulous: “You… want to formally propose to me?”
Zhao Changhe replied, half exasperated, “My feelings for you are common knowledge. Did you really think I wanted to force you or anything like that? If you believe this can be resolved through a proper betrothal, then of course I’ll do it.”
Is that so…? If I truly believed it could be resolved that way, would he actually go through with it?
No, this isn’t right.
Her thoughts were a mess, and desire caused her body to be as hot as a flame. She no longer knew what she was even thinking. Everything about this conversation and this moment felt wrong. It was as if she had stepped into someone else’s story, but she could not figure out where exactly the problem lay.
While she was still lost in that haze, Zhao Changhe added, “But… Blindie…”
Ye Wuming gave up trying to form a coherent sentence. Breathing heavily, she simply looked up at him.
“The whole world may think they know how I feel about you, but maybe they’ve all got it wrong, and you as well.” Zhao Changhe lifted her chin. “Do you really believe that all I ever felt for you was just lust?”
This bastard’s actually grabbing my chin!
Ye Wuming clenched her teeth in...
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