What's wrong with her, thinking of other men and wanting to make phone calls while in bed?!
"How long do you plan to continue this charade?" Tong Ran's slender fingers grasped his wrist, her tone laced with displeasure, "You're sick yet stubbornly pushing yourself and throwing a tantrum by not taking your medicine. Mo Nanjue, are you a three-year-old child?"
"Whether I am a three-year-old child, didn't you just find out?" Nanjue pushed her hands upwards, her delicate wrists as pale and lustrous as jade, the man's large palm caressed them gently, his tone clearly provocative, "Does a three-year-old child make you cry out in pain?"
"..."
"Lie down properly by yourself, I don't have the strength to pull you."
As Nanjue gave the orders, it must be said, even when forcing others, he carried an air of nobility that made one hesitate to argue back.
At that moment, despite feeling extremely dizzy, he was unwilling to let go of her.
