"What did you say? I can't hear you. Huh? Ah!"
Suddenly, Yan Feichen launched an attack.
He grabbed Lin Zhenzhen's shoulders, flipped her over, and pinned her to the ground, pressing down on her.
The strong, powerful thighs, burning hot, seemed like the hardest iron chains, binding her knees tightly, rendering them immobile.
Unable to dodge in time, Lin Zhenzhen's head hit the rock directly.
The sharp corner struck and pierced her scalp, causing her to grimace in pain.
For a full minute, her vision was completely blurred.
When Lin Zhenzhen finally regained her sight, the first thing she saw was a pair of bewitching and eerie red eyes.
Deep within those blood-red pupils seemed to be a slowly flowing vortex, like the sinful datura flower, knowing the danger yet irresistibly drawing one in.
Unfortunately, their gazes now only hold aggression and plunder, devoid of any warmth.
Cold-blooded and ruthless, this is the true nature of Yan Feichen.
Lin Zhenzhen raised her hand, intending to wipe the bloodstains from the corner of his eye. But he grabbed her wrist and roughly pressed her to the ground.
"Ouch, Yan Feichen, it hurts." Lin Zhenzhen's voice was very soft, like a kitten's whimper.
The sound seemed to touch a nerve in Yan Feichen; he paused, his eyes regaining a moment of clarity.
"...Master?"
"It's me." Lin Zhenzhen raised her eyes. "Are you awake?"
Yan Feichen's eyes widened slowly, and he said in disbelief.
"Master, how... how did you get here?"
Lin Zhenzhen turned her head to one side and kicked his shin with her foot: "Let me go first."
Yan Feichen then realized how intimate their posture was.
His palm pressed down on Lin Zhenzhen's wrist, his elbows resting on her shoulders, forcefully encircling her face against his chest.
They were so close, it felt as if he could kiss her forehead if he lowered his head.
When they got so close that their breaths involuntarily mingled as they spoke.
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