The phone by her ear felt uncomfortably hot; Shen Chaoxi gave a few perfunctory responses and hung up.
Seeing her discomfort, Shang Jianghan approached and sat beside her, naturally placing his right hand on her lower abdomen.
"Does it still hurt?" the man's voice was low and unexpectedly gentle.
Shen Chaoxi was startled by his action and instinctively tried to move away, but the man's other arm hooked around her waist, holding her in place.
Her coat still hadn't been delivered, and she was wearing Shang Jianghan's white shirt, which only covered down to her thighs. Her fair, delicate legs were exposed, and the lace edge of her safety shorts peeked out with her movements.
Shen Chaoxi had never felt as embarrassed as she did at this moment.
"Shang Jianghan!" In a moment of urgency, all she could think to do was to address him by his full name.