Enchanting His Heart: His Little Fox Chapter 77: Three-Quarters Drunk Woman, Acting That Makes Yo

With one hand in his pocket, he waved the other at Song Yi: "Co over and try?"

The man’s tone carried a gentle allure, yet was quite soothing.

She listened, swaying slightly in place, watching the man standing not far from her.

"I’m not coming over, you don’t love ." She pouted, looking utterly pitiful.

"..."

"You’re a man, yet you have a chest bigger than mine, boo hoo hoo..." As she spoke, Song Yi crouched down, sobbing sadly, small and petite in the deep night.

While she cried, a pair of long straight legs appeared in her view. Sniffling, she looked up, tears welling: "What kind of expression is that?"

"Don’t believe my chest is bigger than yours?"

"..." Indeed, she didn’t believe it.

He didn’t speak.

Song Yi raised her hand and directly grasped Tang Si’s wrist.

Tang Si lowered his gaze, looking at the girl squatting on the ground, wearing a training suit that was obviously much too big, wrapping her delicate and warm figure, making her look a bit youthful and clear, less seductive.

Her beauty was dazzling, and she could wear any cloth and still showcase her different charms.

Song Yi held onto his wrist and climbed up, tilting her head and leaning against Tang Si’s arm.

"If you don’t believe , why don’t you feel it?" she said, pulling Tang Si’s hand upwards.

Tang Si sensed her pressing completely against him, her body soft with a unique fragrance.

His eyes were deep like a black sea, profound and mysterious, hard to fathom.

When Song Yi pulled his hand upwards, he instantly withdrew his hand.

Stepped back two paces, Song Yi tilted her head looking at Tang Si, with eyebrows curved into a smile, enchanting and alluring.

She fully showcased her nature, her advantages.

In a carefree manner attempting to use softness to conquer hardness, a gentle breeze blew at this ti, draping her entire aura of allure. The wind carried a bit of sweetness.

The swaying branches shook gently, with her deep ambiguity and hints.

The man’s expression was hidden in the night, carried away by the wind, traceless.

She stepped over: "Are you going to feel it or not?"

She acted coy, her eyes fully showing charm, sowhat drunk, her eyes corners red, with a hint of delicate, pitiful allure.

Her hand once again grasped his wrist.

"Song Yi, really, don’t provoke ." His voice in the night carried a high degree of restraint.

She stared dazedly into his deep, ink-like eyes, her heart skipped a beat. Those eyes were calm and unruffled, he was like a serene figure standing in a clear pond.

The calr, the more composed, the more tempting he beca.

She spoke softly, coquettishly: "What’s wrong? You’re being fierce again."

"Hey hey hey—" Song Yi found herself spinning and was suddenly hoisted over the man’s shoulder.

Her slender and frail figure, skinny overall, yet no lack of flesh where needed, not like she claid.

Tang Si could carry two of her with one hand.

In the darkness, the man carried the drunken woman, striding away from the backyard garden.

Passing the dense dark bushes, suddenly a gust of wind blew, carrying a chilling breeze, filling his nose, seemingly carrying a bloody scent.

As the man moved past the bushes, upon leaving, a pool of blood quietly seeped from the dark bush... surreal, chilling, spreading its scent.

...

Song Yi was carried all the way to his room, then was tossed onto the sofa—