Thin lips covered hers.
In the flash of lightning, it was a blitzkrieg.
Qiao Jing's brain "buzzed" and exploded.
In just a few seconds, rage burst into flames.
She bit down on the mouth.
"Hiss—" The man winced in pain and pulled away slightly.
Qiao Jing raised her hand and brought it down hard.
"Mmh—" The man grunted, and fell towards Qiao Jing.
With quick reflexes, she caught the man's face, pushed him aside, quickly got up from the bed, straightened out her evening gown that had been pulled open, and angrily turned to look at the man lying on the bed.
Truth be told, she really didn't want to treat him, but considering that Zhan Qipei had helped her in the banquet hall just now, she had to suppress her anger.
Besides, it wasn't what he wanted to do; his reason had long been devoured by the drug.
Thinking of this, the fire in Qiao Jing's heart subsided somewhat.
Qiao Jing wiped her mouth, returned to the man's side, laid him down flat, and continued to treat him.