Meanwhile, someone was burning with jealousy.
Yang Lingyun sat rigidly in his chair, watching the scene unfold with growing fury. His eyes were fixed on Xia Lihua and Quan Kunjie, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face twitched. His hands, resting on the arms of his chair, curled into fists, his knuckles whitening as he fought the overwhelming urge to lash out.
The smirk on his face had vanished. Now, his expression was dark, brooding, and dangerous.
What kind of shot was this?
Yang Lingyun couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched Xia Lihua hold another man so intimately. The way she pressed Quan Kunjie's head to her chest, the way her fingers caressed his face—it was too much. His heart pounded in his chest, a deep, possessive rage building with every second.
The jealousy was like a roaring fire inside him, and it took every ounce of self-control not to storm onto the set and drag her away.
