"Mr. Ye, please go to another room. I don't want to infect you with my cold."
Ya Shitian wrapped his arms around her, "Then infect me. I have a strong body, I won't catch a cold."
"I'm serious."
"I'm not joking either." Ya Shitian suddenly felt puzzled. Wasn't Ye Anqi's blood special?
Why couldn't she cure even a simple cold now?
Could it be that her blood was useless against colds?
From a certain perspective, a cold is a terminal illness.
Because the cold virus is always mutating and can't be completely cured. Maybe her blood was useless against the cold virus.
"You say if we kiss, will your virus infect me?" he suddenly asked.
Before Ye Anqi could react, her lips were suddenly sealed by his.
Ye Anqi's eyes widened.
The strong and sturdy arms of the man tightened around her, his breath enveloping her entirely.
In Ye Anqi's mouth, there was also the lingering taste of toothpaste from his brushing.
