.
...
"You little brat, I really overestimated you."
Fifteen minutes later, in the bedroom, Li Peifeng sat on the bed smugly, dressing himself.
He Yimeng lay limp on the bed, barely breathing, her tear-streaked face flushed red. Her eyes were moist and vacant, her lips moved slightly as if trying to speak: "I was wrong, Fengfeng..."
"What are you saying?"
Li Peifeng, feeling a sense of satisfaction as if he had avenged a great wrong, threw a quilt over her body and chuckled: "I can't hear you, speak louder!"
Li Peifeng finished dressing, glanced at his phone for the time, it was midnight, hesitated for half a second then laid back in bed, holding He Yimeng under the covers.
"Hmm, your shirt buttons are poking me."
He Yimeng sighed softly, emerging from her indulgent reverie, lazily saying: "Either take it off and hold me for a while, or just leave now."
So demanding!
