"Who is Yueyue talking to?"
The familiar arms wrapped around from behind, hugging her waist tightly, yet the palm gently pressed against her lower abdomen.
Qi Yue turned around, her lips brushing against Zhao Xiyan's cheek.
In an instant, her face heated up.
"Zhao Xiyan, let go now, people come and go here, a lot of people, if someone sees..."
Zhao Xiyan instead pressed his entire face closer, enveloping her from behind.
"Let them see, I'm doting on my woman, who dares to criticize?"
"Still, you should be a little more discrete! You're Zhao Xiyan..."
Qi Yue squirmed a bit, only to end up even closer to the man behind her.
The next second, she heard Zhao Xiyan's voice, mournful like a weeping violin.
"Move again, and your husband might just carry you back to our room..."
"You, this..." Qi Yue bit her lip.
She simply had no way to handle this man.
