Runaway Countdown

He Yu'an was a well-known trust-fund brat in the circle—the expensive cedar cologne on him, laced with an inborn arrogance, made people want to punch him, yet they couldn't tear their eyes away. Sheng Wanyin was different. She was like a sharp little cannonball carelessly tossed into the vanity fair, her tongue cutting like a blade. Late that night, at a drinking party, He Yu'an "accidentally" spilled an entire glass of wine onto her blouse. His way of apologizing was to reach his slender fingers toward her collarbone and, under the guise of wiping it clean, slowly trace circles over her sensitive skin. The taut string between them snapped completely in that sticky, lingering touch.