The moment the words faded, Qi Jingshen pressed his hot, thin lips against Yulan’s.
How could anyone have lips this soft?
Qi Jingshen marveled to himself. They were softer than the cloud cakes made by the most skilled pastry chef in the imperial palace. They felt as though they would melt at the slightest pressure, requiring him to be careful—even more careful. By comparison, his own large, sturdy frame made him feel incredibly coarse. He had to be delicate, exceedingly delicate, so as not to let this soft, drifting cloud fall to the earth.
Chapter 188