That Is Not Really Wrestling

Ji Weixi was greatly amused even as she lowered her eyes at the pants in her hands.

Suddenly, a voice that was at once magnetic and playful asked, "What are you giggling about?"

Taken completely by surprise, Ji Weixi squealed, turning and felt her feet slip—but Li Shaoling caught her waist and pulled her to himself, their noses almost touching.

Almost ending up in an early funeral, Ji Weixi was about to tell him off, only to have Li Shaoling put a finger on her lips

"Hush." He whispered. "Our son is sleeping; you don't want to wake him up."

The way he said 'our son' was so natural as if they were married.

As warm breaths mingled, the scent of an affair spread.

His gaze was watering, even… overflowing with affection.

Even across her clothes, the heat of his palm was almost scorching her. Ji Weixi felt a rising indignation inside, and she opened her mouth to bite down viciously on his finger.