Party Begins

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

Kiana curled her fingertips into little fists and lightly tapped Nan Fusheng's shoulder bone, her rising tone carrying a young girl's distinctive coquettish charm.

Tilting her head, the black bow on her ponytail brushed across Nan Fusheng's hand like a moonbeam that tickled. "Why do you keep staring at my socks~"

"Ahem..." Nan Fusheng coughed lightly, yet his gaze still wandered over those mismatched socks—the lace trim of the thigh-high rested obediently beneath her knee, while the edge of the short sock mischievously curled up, revealing the delicate skin around her ankle.

He forced himself to look toward the window, only to see Kiana's half-smiling face reflected in the glass. He could not help coughing again. "Anyway, this dress looks very nice. It suits you perfectly."

"Really?" Kiana's laughter trembled like silver bells as she suddenly lifted her right leg, the tiny diamonds on her anklet tracing fragmented arcs of light beneath the lamps.

There was a deliberate, willful coquettishness to her movement as she placed the calf clad in a short sock directly on Nan Fusheng's knee. Her satin skirt slipped down slightly, revealing a stretch of fair skin. "Then could you give me a massage~"

Nan Fusheng instinctively glanced toward the driver's seat. Ye Xinglan's back was ramrod straight, her gloved hands steadily gripping the steering wheel. Under the cold glow of the dashboard, her profile was taut as a sharp line.

His throat bobbed, and his lowered voice carried a hint of urgency. "Xinglan is right here. Don't mess around."

"It's fine, as long as we keep it down~" Kiana leaned toward him, the lace at her shoulder strap brushing his sleeve and carrying a faint, elusive fragrance.

Her ankle twisted restlessly, the thin heel of her high-heeled shoe drawing an