Give Me Your Hand

When Ye Caitang heard this, she suddenly bit Qin Ruohan's chin with her white teeth and glared at him solemnly.

"You can't hit me. A man hitting a woman is domestic violence."

"I can use the law against you."

"If you don't want me to spank you,"

Qin Ruohan touched his chin with his hand. He gazed speechlessly at the bold Ye Caitang who was in a daze.

"Then you'd better get off me immediately and sit properly."

"No, I'm not in a good mood today. I'm the boss. I want to lean on you."

Ye Caitang continued to rub her head against Qin Ruohan's neck coyly like a kitten.

"You're like a big furnace; so warm. I want to hug you in bed at night too."

Qin Tian did not know if he should continue to stay in the car as a third wheel or get out immediately.

What kind of international joke was this? Mr. Qin was as cold as a ten-thousand-year-old glacier. When had he ever been warm?