Wen Qing's attention was all on the door closed by Song Xuan.

Is there anything you can't say well? Have to close the door?

He looked at Song Xuan's exposed muscles. The wheat-colored skin was covered with sweat, and the muscles were firm and smooth. It shouldn't be a problem to knock him down with one punch.

Wen Qing's eyelids jumped, and she said to Song Xuan, "I, I'm fierce everywhere..."

That being said, he still stepped back.

Song Xuan sneered again, walking in and asking, "That fellow Fu Ranxiu let you live here?"

"Yes..." Wen Qing nodded nervously.

"Fake kindness." Song Xuan clicked his tongue, stood in front of the wardrobe, took off his basketball uniform with one hand, and threw it on the ground at will.

Seeing this, Wen Qing breathed a sigh of relief.

He pursed his lips, didn't dare to speak more, and walked quickly to the door.

The wardrobe is connected to the table and the bed. Song Xuan's bed is near the door, and Wen Qing must pass by him.

Not daring to get too close to Song Xuan, Wen Qing walked next to the table on the other side.

Song Xuan just picked up the clothes, and suddenly smelled a faint fragrance on the tip of his nose.

A little sweet, not greasy, smelled it in the afternoon.

He narrowed his eyes, closed the wardrobe door, and turned to look at Wen Qing.

Before Wen Qing could react, a breeze had just hit beside her.

The next second, a large hand squeezed his shoulders and pressed him to the table.

Wen Qing opened her eyes wide in fright and looked at Song Xuan in panic.

Song Xuan's upper body is full of sex, and the strong smell of male hormones fills the air.

The tip of Wen Qing's nose almost hit his chest, she hurriedly leaned back, and put her hands on the table.

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