Looking at the shameless man so close at hand, Ou Lan froze for two seconds before reacting, and then with a "snap", a little slap landed on the man's face.
She cursed him, "You're shameless!"
Zhan Moxiao didn't even dodge; he didn't want to argue with anyone. The slap felt strangely satisfying to him—a wife's slap was sweet.
He licked his lips, struggling to resist the urge to kiss her forcibly, "Ex-wife, playing hard to get is a waste of time."
Miss Ou, who hadn't sworn in a long time, blurted out a curse, "Playing hard to get my ass!"
The amusement hidden in Zhan Moxiao's eyes nearly burst forth, "Ex-wife, are you saying that you don't want to steal?"
Ou Lan, "Steal your ass!"
Zhan Moxiao's eyes slightly mischievous, because he was about to burst into laughter, "Ex-wife, you ran to my art exhibition, followed me to my room, and now you're lying in my bed. If you say you don't want to steal, does it mean you want to talk about work?"
