The Party Begins

"Hey, pervert, I'm talking to you."

Kiana curled her fingertips into a small fist and lightly tapped Nan Fusheng's shoulder bone, her rising tone carrying a girl's particular coquettish innocence.

She tilted her head, the black bow on her ponytail brushing across Nan Fusheng's hand like moonlight that left behind an itch. "Why do you keep staring at my socks~?"

"Ahem..." Nan Fusheng coughed softly, yet his gaze still drifted over those mismatched socks—the lace trim of the thigh-high sock lay obediently beneath her knee, while the edge of the short sock playfully curled up, exposing the delicate skin at her ankle.

He forced himself to look out the window, only to see Kiana's half-smiling face reflected in the glass. He could not help coughing again. "Anyway, this evening gown looks beautiful. It suits you very well."

"Really?" Kiana's laughter trembled like silver bells as she suddenly lifted her right leg. The Diamond Anklet around her ankle traced a fine arc of light beneath the lamps.

With deliberate, spoiled coquettishness, she placed the calf clad in the short sock directly on Nan Fusheng's knee. Her satin skirt slipped down a few inches, revealing a stretch of fair skin. "Then could you give me a massage~?"

Nan Fusheng's gaze instinctively flicked toward the driver's seat. Ye Xinglan's back was ramrod straight, her black-gloved hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, while the cold dashboard light sharpened the line of her profile.

His throat bobbed as he hurriedly lowered his voice. "Xinglan is right here. Don't mess around."

"It's fine, as long as we keep it quiet~" Kiana leaned toward him, the lace trim by her shoulder strap brushing his sleeve with a faint, elusive fragrance.

Her ankle twisted restlessly, the slender heel of her high-heeled shoe tracing an intimate curve across his