Warm, comfortable sunlight streamed through the window and shone onto the two-meter-wide bed in the suite.
Wrapped in a thin blanket, Luo Wuyan, her body aching all over, opened her eyes and saw Shen Jiarui's face, which was grinning from ear to ear, lying beside her with his head propped up by his hand, looking at her.
Luo Wuyan slowly pulled the blanket over her face.
"Miss Luo, could you rate my performance last night?"
Luo Wuyan's charming voice came from under the covers: "Barely."
"Oh, so you're not satisfied? Then I'll keep trying tonight."
Shen Jiarui pulled back the blanket and brought his face close.
Luo Wuyan was forced to look directly at his face.
It seems that everything has changed since last night.
She couldn't quite put her finger on what was different.
"I'm going back to the US in a couple of days, you can stay out of here."
“If you miss me, I can fly to the US anytime.” Shen Jiarui kissed her forehead.
Afraid that he would do it again, Luo Wuyan pushed him away, got out of bed, picked up her clothes, and put them on.
Before she could even wash up, Luo Wuyan fled in a panic.
Shen Jiarui looked at the mottled red stains on the white quilt, and couldn't help but smile. He stretched lazily, feeling refreshed, took out his phone, and sent a friend request to Luo Wuyan's new WeChat account.
The note reads: Your boyfriend.
Luo Wuyan sat in the taxi, looking at the friend request sent by Shen Jiarui.
I clicked "accept" and added the nickname "Male Model Number One" to his contact information.
She had just finished making the note when her phone rang.
The incoming call was like a demonic ringtone from hell, instantly plunging Luo Wuyan's mood into despair.
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