TSFLIP Chapter 961

Now that she no longer had to worry about winning over Wen Xian, Fengguang slept soundly—dreamless—until the next morning.

After drinking her fill of Ming’an’s blood the day before, her body had recovered considerably. At the very least, when she moved her foot, it no longer hurt. She got out of bed in oversized slippers and the shirt she had been wearing like a dress. When she opened the door, she saw a disheveled man slumped on the sofa, snoring loudly. Several empty beer cans sat in front of him, the television was still on, and a few half-flipped magazines lay scattered on the coffee table.

She glanced at the clock on the wall—it was only 7:30 a.m., and he didn’t have to be in the principal’s office until eight.

Fengguang shuffled over in her slippers and curiously looked at the beer cans on the table. She had never understood what was so appealing about the drink that he loved it so much. Out of curiosity, she picked up a half-finished can, sniffed it first—since it didn’t smell too harsh—and then took a sip. The next second, she set the can down and started coughing violently.

A hand grabbed her wrist. She fell backward and landed in the man’s lap. Then her chin was lifted, and a burning kiss landed on her lips.

…

When their lips parted, a thin silver thread stretched between them. Her face flushed and her heart pounded. Pressing against her lips, he said in a sleepy, lazy voice, “Good morning, little girl…”

Was that… a good-morning kiss?

Fengguang pushed at his shoulder, but he didn’t budge. Expressionless, she said, “Principal, what exactly are you trying to do to your female student so early in the morning?”

“I want to wrestle you into submission,” he said. “But I’m afraid you wouldn’t agree.”

Her heart raced. Annoyed, she said, “Act properly.”

He kissed the corner of her lips again. “When you’ve seen what I’m like when I’m improper, you’ll realize how proper I am right now.”

“Stop talking!” She kicked him. “How long are you going to keep pinning me down? Get up.”

He obediently sat up, but pulled her back into his arms as well. Holding her, he swayed gently like a parent soothing a child. “Baby, are you hungry?”

Her eyebrow twitched. She pinched the flesh at his waist. “Don’t call me like I’m a child.”

“The TV said… young people these days like calling themselves ‘baby.’” The television used to be nothing more than decoration, but to understand younger people, Ming’an had deliberately watched some youth programs—before promptly falling asleep.

Fengguang shot him a sideways glare. “I’m not some oversized infant. Why would I call myself ‘baby’?”