Arc 3 (12). The florists are bitches.

In a dark room. two people were tied to chairs.

Both were males, one was lying unconscious while the other was struggling profusely.

Li Huan rolled his wrists, trying to loosen the ropes because it hurt like a bitch.

His mouth was tied tightly, His legs were tied to the legs of the wooden chair he was sitting on and his hands were tied behind his back... meaning he was currently vulnerable...

'Oh hell no! I'm not some damsel in distress! get it right narrator!' Li Huan gritted his teeth as he glared at the air in front of him.

...

right...

Li Huan's shoulder-length black hair was a mess and his front bangs were currently irritating him as he couldn't get them out of his eyes.

How do actors do it?

The door opened, snapping him out of his thoughts as his gaze moved upward.

"How does if feel?" Li Huan pursed his lips, disgust overcoming him.

'How the fuck do you want me to respond with this cloth restraining my mouth!'

Zhang Wei narrowed his eyes at Li Huan before chuckling.