The moonlight gently traced his sharp features, casting shadows of varying depths on the sides of his neck, as if sketching an exquisite ink painting of his face.
Seeing her come out, he raised an eyebrow slightly, handed the brocade quilt in his arms forward, and said in a somewhat nonchalant tone: "I'm afraid you'll freeze to death."
Those hands had distinct knuckles, gleaming with a cold, jade-like luster under the moonlight. The veins on the back of the hands meandered like a lurking green dragon, subtly exuding a sense of power.
Shen Jintang thought he hadn't heard her call him childish, so she breathed a sigh of relief and reached out to take it.
However, just as her fingertips were about to touch the brocade quilt, Gu Zhixing grabbed her wrist with his other hand, his eyes swirling with dark emotions, but his tone was as flippant as if he were talking about the stars tonight: "What did you say about me just now?"
"Eavesdropping on me?" Shen Jintang narrowed her eyes, her gaze filled with vigilance and accusation.
Before he could finish speaking, Gu Zhixing suddenly exerted force, tightening his arms and pulling her and the blanket into his embrace.
The door slammed shut behind them, shaking down a shower of osmanthus blossoms from under the eaves. The petals fell like rain, carrying a faint, sweet fragrance.
Before Shen Jintang could react, he spun around and disappeared into the shadows behind the pillars.
Her back pressed against the cold wall, while his burning chest pressed against her chest; the contrast between the cold and the heat made her heart race instantly.
"you--"
She was about to speak when he suddenly interrupted her.
He suddenly wrapped her whole body in a brocade quilt, trapping her in a small space like a rice dumpling. The soft touch of the quilt and his breath intertwined, making her feel suffocated.
Osmanthus blossoms fell softly onto the quilt, then dispersed by his breath, filling the air with a faint fragrance.
He leaned down, his fingertips gently pressing against her lips, his eyes reflecting the shimmering moonlight, his voice low and husky: "Shh. I'm listening openly."
He chuckled softly, his hot breath brushing against her ear, as if teasing her senses.
The brocade quilt separated the two of them, but it couldn't block the heat from her chest. The warmth penetrated the thin quilt and went straight to her skin.
"Since the young master says I'm naive—"
His long, slender fingers suddenly gripped her chin, forcing her to look up. Moonlight streamed down his brow, making his phoenix eyes appear exceptionally deep. "How about we talk about who's more mature than me? Hmm?"
The last syllable rose in pitch, carrying a hint of danger.
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