Before Zhongli Ting even had a chance to set the drunkard in his arms down, a soft, damp kiss landed lightly on the angle of his jaw.
The head buried against his shoulder seemed to tilt up, and soft, warm lips brushed along his jawline. It was so light it felt like an accident—like a feather grazing his very heart.
In that instant, Zhongli Ting froze. "?"
Chapter 165