Their distance was a mere breath away, their breathing entangled with one another.
Li Qiao collected herself and gazed into the man’s deep eyes, sensing the conversation could not continue any further.
Thus, she flashed her eyes and innocently extended her right hand, batting her eyelashes, "Master Yan, I’m cold."
Having held hands with the left before, now it was time for the right hand; one must not favor one over the other.
Shang Yu’s initially displeased expression, upon seeing Li Qiao’s gesture, softened in an instant with a faint smile.
He looked at Li Qiao and pressed her chin with his thumb, seemingly exasperated, "Don’t you know to wear more if you’re cold?"
Was this a refusal to hold hands again?
But, as he spoke, Li Qiao’s right hand was already enveloped in the man’s broad and warm palm.
Li Qiao looked down and smiled.
It turned out that just holding hands could make one’s heart race.
In the elevator, Li Qiao stood next to Shang Yu, watching their clasped hands in the reflective mirror wall, pondering repeatedly, "Master Yan, what do you think... our relationship is right now?"
"What do you think it is?" Shang Yu asked in return, his deep eyes also looking at Li Qiao in the mirror.
Certain things are left unsaid previously because the certainty of each other’s feelings was still lacking.
But as time goes on, the matters of the heart, even if not spoken, will flow out through the eyes.
Li Qiao was very clear about one thing; she liked Shang Yu from the moment of initial attraction to now... a long-cherished wish.
Even if the world said he was cold-blooded and obsessive, she found that this was what made him unique.
With this thought, Li Qiao turned to look at Shang Yu beside her, her eyes filled with unprecedented seriousness, "I think, if you hold hands, you should take responsibility."
If a relationship required someone to take the first step, Li Qiao did not mind being the one to do so.
The elevator cabin was very quiet, not even a hint of extraneous noise could be heard.
Li Qiao looked intently at Shang Yu, his extremely handsome face right before her eyes, no matter how many times she saw it, it could still stir her soul.
The ambiguous phase seemed about to break.
Their gazes met, and the faint glow condensed in each other’s eyes was almost unanimous.
Then, the hand was let go.
After a moment of tension, what followed was a deluge of disappointment.
Feeling the lingering warmth on her fingertips, Li Qiao pursed her lips in self-consolation: Patience cannot be rushed.
However, her shoulder suddenly felt heavy, and the moment she looked up, she was pulled in front of the man.
Now they stood face to face, Shang Yu’s right arm wrapped around her shoulder, his other hand slowly raising her chin, his handsome face leaning down, his crisp breath sprinkled down, and his husky voice with a laugh, "Good girl, some things should be left for the man to say."
Li Qiao was forced to look up at Shang Yu, taken aback for once.
This was the first time she had heard her label from his mouth.
Li Qiao’s breath became chaotic, and so did her heartbeat.
Her nostrils filled with his scent, a light tobacco fragrance combined with a strong hormonal scent.
Li Qiao gazed closely at Shang Yu, her fingers curling at her sides, feigning composure as she nodded, "Okay, then you say it."
The man held her shoulder, gently patting, then his palm lifted and rested on top of her head, his tone rarely gentle, "It’s not the time yet."
Li Qiao’s expression stiffened, and after coming back to her senses, she replied with low spirits, "Oh..."
She instinctively stepped back, forcibly increasing the distance between them.
Then, leaning against the elevator wall, she looked down and retorted, "Master Yan, is this a stalling tactic?"