Strike First

Unable to contain his emotions, he suddenly moved closer—

"What are you doing?" Sheng Yang suddenly turned her head vigilantly, the ends of her long hair sweeping across her neck. Her heart was itching.

He cleared his throat. "Nothing."

He had to take things slow with Yangyang. He couldn't go too fast.

Sheng Yang thought about what she had seen in the book. Suddenly, she leaned forward and gave Yi Juncheng a quick peck on his lips before quickly leaving.

It was quick and gentle.

If it weren't for the lingering fragrance on his thin lips, he would've thought it didn't happen at all.

Then, she stared at Yi Juncheng solemnly.

It was important to strike first.

His pupils constricted, and he muttered to himself for a long while before he found his voice. It was still low and hoarse. "You…"

Before he could say anything else, Sheng Yang had already gotten back on the motorcycle and left.