C22 Midnight Flower Picker

A tall figure loomed behind her, the familiar crisp scent of cigars wafting to Yuvyuv's nose. At the same time, the small hand holding the scissors was enveloped by a large, cool hand. Her petite frame was pulled into the embrace of the newcomer.

Yuvyuv's face flushed with embarrassment and anger. A deep, magnetic voice whispered in her ear, "Trying to murder your husband, huh?"

"Huo Lingxiao