The air seemed to freeze between them, thick with an unspoken tension that neither Hua Jing nor the noble lady could quite comprehend.
Their faces were mere inches apart, their breaths mingling in the narrow space that separated them.
Hua Jing's arms, strong and steady, held the woman securely, her body pressed against his chest.
The noble lady's wide, startled eyes locked onto Hua Jing's, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire world had narrowed down to just the two of them.
Hua Jing's face, in the woman's eyes was devilishly handsome even in disguise, was a sight to behold. His sharp jawline, framed by the faint shadow of his carefully drawn mustache, seemed almost sculpted by the gods themselves.
His eyes, dark and wicked, glimmered with a playful mischief that made the noble lady's heart skip a beat.
His lips, curved into that infuriatingly charming smirk, seemed to promise both danger and delight. She couldn't look away, even if she wanted to.
