Attitudes getting worse by the second, mouths filthier by the minute, yet Ying Ling was far from a docile herbivore—her raging fury subsided in but a few breaths.
Deep breath in, her ample chest rising and falling, with such close proximity, he could feel the warm breath continuously striking his face.
Somewhat itchy, somewhat warm, carrying a faint fragrance that kept burrowing into his nostrils, that cute doll-like face again wore a perplexing yet polite smile.
"Young Master Jiang, what exactly are you implying? Ying Ling had no intentions of questioning, merely curious about the ominous item. Presumably, it's something you acquired during a demon-slaying escapade."
"If it's not convenient to answer, Ying Ling naturally won't press further. But now with the glorious moon overhead, we should be appreciating the moon and the flowers instead of ending up in such a tense standoff, truly ruining the scenic beauty."
"How about we both step back a bit, what do you say?"
