"Wait a minute." Xing Ling stopped in front of him and looked up at him, once again marveling at his height. "Are you actually six-foot-three?"
Ye Sihan looked down at her with deep, inscrutable black eyes, saying nothing.
"If you truly pity Wu Qianqian, you could have the director give her a role, or save the leading role in the next film for her," Xing Ling suggested. "But to have me just get lost like that, isn't that too much? Mr. Ye, that's not the right way to show 'a knight's indignation on behalf of his lady.'
"What if I don't agree?" Ye Sihan remained impassive, his deep thoughts unreadable.
Xing Ling reached out and grabbed his collar, pulling forcefully, bringing their faces very close together.
She intended to get closer to make her words more persuasive, but didn't expect their faces to be so near that their breaths intertwined, sending a tingle through her scalp.
Her tipsy mind was slow to respond and she didn't think to pull away immediately.