ingzheng. As the car started, the man's hand went around her head, protecting her from moving about.Fu Yan was like a lazy cat, rubbing against his chest. After two days of companionship, she seemed t...Her foot was nailed to the ground, unable to move.

Ho Mingzheng was very patient. He lowered his head and lit a cigarette, "In a while, Uncle Three and his family will be back. You're just going to stand here with me and tell them about us"

"What's wrong with us" Fu Yan was agitated like a cat whose fur stood on end. "What could possibly be wrong between us"

"What do you think" the man said in a flat tone.

At this point, the servants were still busy, and people kept passing by. Fu Yan had no choice but to compromise and entered the West Flower Hall with him.

This is the place prepared for the female guests to rest tomorrow, it has already been set up and no one will come in.

Outside, the courtyard was as bright as day. The lights were off inside the house, and relying on the light filtering in from the windows and moonlight, Fu Yan walked to another door, ready to run at any moment.

The man chuckled lightly, and Fu Yan felt a shiver run down her spine. She wished she could leave immediately.

Suddenly, a group of servants arrived in the courtyard. They moved in a rustling line, and when Fu Yan took a closer look, she realized they were moving flowerpots. The original pots had already been arranged, so she wondered why they suddenly needed to change them.

It's not something that can be done overnight.

Now going out is akin to letting everyone see her and Huo Mingzheng spending time alone.

"You did this on purpose." she exclaimed angrily.

Huo Mingzheng looked at her calmly, brushed off some ash from his cigarette, and a faint smile played on his lips, neither admitting nor denying.

Having stubbed out his cigarette, he walked towards Fu Yan, "Where's the hairpin"

"It's already been thrown away," Fu Yan lied.

She didn't know where Song Qingshuang had put the hairpin, but it definitely wouldn't be lost. That hairpin was priceless; Song Qingshuang would never part with it.

A shadow fell over her head, Fu Yan just reacted and wanted to step back, but Huo Mingzheng easily held her waist, then he unzipped her backpack, and took out a red sandalwood box from inside.

Fu Yan's eyes widened, and her face flushed uncontrollably.

The man opened the lacquered box, and inside lay that hairpin adorned with pearls.

Mingming claimed she had thrown it away, but now she took a hairpin out of her bag. Fu Yan was speechless. Even if she explained that Song Qing霜 had slipped it into her bag while she wasn't looking, it wouldn't help.

"Cheat me"

She flushed with anger, her cheeks burning red. "I don't have the chance to throw it."

Ho Mingzheng handed her the hairpin, "Now you have a chance."

Once on a tiger, hard to dismount, Fu Yan grabbed her hairpin and was about to throw it in the trash.

But she was caught by a man, his grip on her wrist tightening, his voice cold. "You're late."

After being played around by Fu Yan, his emotions reached their peak, and then he calmed down.

She pulled her hand away forcefully. "Second brother, if you have something to say, just say it. If not, I'm going back."

"Can you go out now" Huo Mingzheng's gaze shifted to the window.

The maid is still moving the flower pots.

Fu Yan was not leaving, so she found a place farther away from Huo Mingzheng and sat down. She didn't want to see his face, so she turned her back on him, pretending to look at her phone.

Suddenly, a warm sensation touched the back of her neck. It was Huo Mingzheng's right hand, its fingertips rough with callouses from years of use, sliding through her hair.

The moment he touched her, she stiffened all over.

Then her long hair was lifted, she was about to turn around, but the man grabbed her shoulder with one hand, "Don't move."

"What are you doing" she didn't realize her voice was trembling with nervousness.

His heart hammered in his chest, the thrumming of blood vessels a constant crescendo against his eardrums. A vague awareness crept over him of what he was about to do.

As the hairpin pierced through her long hair, Huo Mingzheng said in a low voice, “Let me style your hair for you.”y beauty, while she was a dazzling beauty of the bright appearance type.At that time, Fu Yan was eighteen years old, with a secret hidden in her heart, her heart beating fast. In the midst of brillian...