The atmosphere between the two chilled rapidly. Feng Yueming's gaze, sharp as ever, instantly perceived her rejection and fear. He pressed his lips into a cold, pale arc and then directly grasped her small hand and pushed it towards his body, impatiently demanding, "Will you do it or not?"
Mi Yao had not expected him to get physical, and how roughly he did so! Moreover, her legs were still numb, so when he pulled, she lost her balance.
With a cry, "Ah," Mi Yao's head plunged into the man's embrace—more precisely, into his trousers.
She fluttered open like a startled little bird.
Feng Yueming had only intended for her to help him wipe down his body and had not thought to take any liberties.
"Mi Yao, get up!" He commanded with a darkened face.
Mi Yao wanted to get up, but "My hair is caught in your zipper..."
Feng Yueming saw that it was true, so he quickly reached out to untangle her hair, "Lie down, don't move."
