Chi Chali's hands were unruly, his fingers digging harshly into the soft flesh of Wen Rushuang.
He wouldn't stoop so low as to actually want something from Wen Rushuang—her beauty was mediocre at best, barely passable when dressed up.
She was never someone who could catch his eye.
A couple of gropes was enough to quench his thirst.
"Chi He has been guarding against you for a long time. Do you still think you can have something with him? Isn't that too naïve?" Chi Chali mocked Wen Rushuang.
At her age, still believing in love—Chi Chali found it quite amusing.
Wen Rushuang chuckled, "Everyone knows that a fruit forcibly plucked is not sweet, but I can't help my cravings. I just want to take a bite and worry about the taste later."
Ever since she saw Chi He for who he truly was, Wen Rushuang had come to understand.
Compromising would not bring her any benefits; cooperating with Chi Chali to trip up Chi He was her new plan.