Young Master Mo, Are You Done Kissing?

Ji Nuan picked up one of them, whose vintage she didn’t know. Anyway, anything Mo Jingshen could keep at home wouldn’t be cheap.

She dodged the cracked bottle and drank from it.

Strange taste, actually a little bitter.

She picked up another bottle, still avoiding cutting her mouth, threw her head back, and poured a mouthful of wine into her mouth.

Tut, still bitter.

She tasted several bottles in succession, but they were all bitter.

She smacked her lips and licked the corners of her mouth, only to find that it was her own mouth that tasted bitter.

After wiping her mouth, she looked at the expensive wines on the floor. Besides the wine spilled on the floor, there was still some at the bottom of these bottles, which she shouldn’t waste.

She took another sip, which was not so bitter this time, but rather sour. She continued to take another sip, which tasted the same.

The woman of poor liquor capacity sat on the ground with her white, tender feet bare. She drank one bottle after another until she finished all the wine in these broken bottles. She squinted at the quiet, closed door and no seeing Mo Jingshen, looked back out the window.

Oh, so many stars.

—-

Black Ghost galloped down the road. Not long after Mo Jingshen left, he went to a nearby drugstore to buy some medicine for her injuries.

He got out of the car and was about to hand it over to the security guard at Ao Lan International. As soon as he got out of the car, however, his step stopped. He looked up, only to see that on the balcony of the eighteenth floor, a woman in a skirt was sitting on the edge, her injured feet still dangling. A gust of wind could blow her down from the eighteenth floor.

Mo Jingshen’s face darkened. He slammed the door shut, picked up his cell phone and called Ji Nuan.

The woman was still on the balcony. Her cell phone, which perhaps she put in the room or held in her hand, rang for a long time before finally being picked up.

The moment she picked up the phone, Mo Jingshen said coldly, “Ji Nuan, what are you doing?”

The woman’s dazed voice rang on the phone. “Huh? Me? What am I doing? I’m… looking at the stars…”

Mo Jingshen looked up at the balcony of the eighteenth floor. Her legs were still swinging back and forth, and she was holding her phone to her ear and answering the phone.