Upon closer inspection, Feng Guang couldn't help but think that Nan Ke was quite to her liking. Although his appearance wasn't exactly unparalleled, the rare scholarly air mixed with his ethereal beauty was enough to easily stir one's heartstrings.
She didn't know what her ideal type should be like before, but after meeting Nan Ke, she could imagine a little bit of it.
She prefers a gentle man to a domineering one. Of course, this gentleness doesn't mean he's gentle to everyone; it's enough if he's gentle only to her.
Hearing Feng Guang's tone, it was clear she no longer cared about the matter. Nan Ke's lips curled into a beautiful smile. His gaze softened as he looked at her, and even the moonlight seemed to soften because of him. He asked, "Since Miss Feng Guang doesn't care anymore, may I touch your chest?"
Fengguang, who was happily holding the flowers, suddenly froze.
When she didn't answer, he asked again, "Miss Fengguang, may I touch your breasts?"
"……What did you say?"
His eyes curved gently, and he chuckled softly, like the gentle breeze in March when spring is in full bloom, making one feel incredibly comfortable. "You're not angry anymore... can I touch your chest then?"
The veins on the back of Fengguang's hand, which was holding the bunch of jasmine flowers, bulged.
"My darling, don't be angry anymore..." From that dark corner of my memory, a man's doting and gentle voice rang out, "Then can I touch you?"
These were the voices echoing in her mind. She looked at Nan Ke, her mouth slightly open, but she still couldn't utter a single name.
Nan Ke said gently, "Miss Fengguang..."
She snapped out of her daze and realized with a start that she had unconsciously tightened her grip on the flower, her nails digging into the skin of her palm. It was Nan Ke who held her hand, preventing her from actually hurting herself.
"What's wrong?" Nan Ke asked.
Her face was pale, and cold sweat broke out on her forehead, as if she had been frightened or had a nightmare.
Feng Guang was panting and her mind was in turmoil. When she tried to recall the voice that had inexplicably appeared in her mind, she couldn't remember what it was. It was like remembering what you were going to do but forgetting it a second later and being unable to recall it. This feeling was extremely unpleasant.
Feng Guang had never had such an experience before, at least not in her memory. Even when she sometimes forgot the content of her dreams after waking up, she would just think, "So what if I forgot? It was just a nightmare, so there's no need to remember it." But this time was different.
She always wanted to grasp at something... but what was it?
She herself didn't know.
"It's nothing..." Thinking about it further was pointless, so Feng Guang simply gave up on pursuing the matter. She looked up at Nan Ke, then returned to her usual self and snorted, pulling her hand away from his grasp. She said with a sharp edge, "You think you can be so frivolous with me with just a bouquet of flowers? I say, Village Chief, you're underestimating me far too much!"
She threw the crumpled bouquet of flowers into his arms, turned around, went inside, and slammed the door shut.
Nan Ke was left standing outside the door, his lonely figure in the night making him seem rather pitiful.
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