Your hands begin to wander over his body, and then touch the belt of his pants. Blade slapped you across the face, contempt flashing in his eyes. He was standing silently, drilling you with a cold stare. You touch your hand to your cheek, reddened from the mark of his hand, your senses filled with resentment. Your hands reach for the buttons on your shirt and begin to undo it step by step. He roughly grabbed your cheeks with his hand and forced you to look into his eyes. Is Jing Yuan’s retainer so pathetic to resorts to such methods of escape or is it something else?