A pain that seemed to open him up from the inside spread endlessly from every corner of his body, raging and screaming through his veins.
He felt his temples throbbing violently, causing a headache. No, it wasn't just a headache; his heart, lungs, liver—his whole body ached, and it felt suffocatingly stifling!
The room was very quiet. Ling Momo smelled the strong odor of smoke and, unaccustomed to it, frowned, asking, "Why have you smoked so much?"
Hearing this, Li Qingshen couldn't bear the raging anger any longer; grinding his teeth and clenching his jaw, he let out a cold sneer. His smoking, what did it have to do with her?
He wished!
Didn't she like it?
Yes, how could she like anything he did? She wouldn't like anything, would she?
She liked Lu Niange, Lu Niange!
This thought burned his nerves like fire, and he suddenly strode toward Ling Momo.
He reached her, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her toward the bed.
What if she didn't like it?
