The very next second, Qi Jingshen's scorching lips pressed against Yu Lan's.
'How could her lips be so soft.'
Qi Jingshen marveled.
Softer than the cloud cake made by the most skilled chef in the Imperial Palace.
It was as if they would melt at the slightest touch; he needed to be careful, and then even more careful.
In comparison, it made the tall, strong man seem utterly brutish.
He had to be careful, and even more careful, to keep this soft, light cloud from falling to the ground.
Qi Jingshen gently took Yu Lan's lips between his own, his dark green eyes fixed earnestly on her small face.
Because her eyes were blindfolded, Yu Lan couldn't see a thing.
Her eyelashes trembled, making the blindfold flutter incessantly like a butterfly's wings in a downpour.
Her head tilted back slightly, exposing a vulnerable stretch of her neck.
A hint of obsession, one he himself hadn't realized, flashed through his eyes.
He had never seen Yu Lan like this.
