Liu Chang'an sat up straight and fastened the buttons at his chest. He knew full well that his charm often made people lose control. To keep Bai Hui from being consumed by lust and, unable to win his heart, desperately deciding that possessing his body would be good enough, Liu Chang'an had to appear a little more reserved.
Who said men could not say, "I can be flirtatious, but you cannot harass me"? It was clearly a man's right too, yet people would call him pretentious for it. Sigh.
Men needed self-respect and independence. They had to understand that they could say no to sexual harassment from women too, and remember to protect themselves in daily life.
"I only look at the edited photos myself. I generally don't send them out," Bai Hui casually added, not particularly trying to explain anything.
Using his superb tongue skills, Liu Chang'an pitted a cherry, spat out the pit, and ate the flesh. Taking out his phone and turning it on, he said, "Wait, let me see who sent me those selfies edited to look like Japanese private-photo color grading."
"Don't look!" Bai Hui's cheeks flushed so hard that even the apples of her cheeks puffed up. She reached out to press down Liu Chang'an's phone, her palm swiping back and forth across the screen as though she could either cover the entire display or wipe away those photos.
This was not the first time Liu Chang'an had been this close to Bai Hui. He could clearly see the traces of makeup on her cheeks—light and subtle, exactly how a young girl's makeup ought to look, without that heavy, glamorous effect that looked fine from afar but up close resembled the plastering and paste-smearing work of a paperhanger.
Speaking of makeup that resembled plastering