Li Qingshen was brutal and fierce, cold and heartless like a wild beast, void of any emotions, purely venting.
And Ling Momo lay there like a soulless doll, completely at his disposal.
Only after a very, very long while did Li Qingshen, exhausted, finally stop. As he rolled over, his fingers unintentionally touched the wet patch on the bedsheet beside her head. He pressed his lips tightly together, thinking, did she cry?
A slight tug at the bottom of Li Qingshen's heart made him feel his heart start to ache again, so painfully that he momentarily couldn't move.
After a while, he clenched his hand, forcefully moved it away from that wet patch on the bedsheet, straightened his clothes, and with a self-deprecating smile curling his lips, he finally said, "Up till now, you've been with me 27 times, and there are still 71 to go!"
After that, Li Qingshen turned and left.
Instantly, the room returned to silence.
