What on earth!
Seeing the stunned expression flashing across Yuchuan Ayaka's face, Xia Yu felt something was terribly wrong and twisted around to bolt.
Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang…
So, along the way, tables and chairs were tripped over one after another.
He hadn't run a few steps when Xia Yu suddenly stopped, realization hitting him even in his dim state—my hair, MY HAIR!
He reached back to grab it!
The feel of it in that instant was like silky damask, but Xia Yu had no time to enjoy it; his arm trembled, flipping a strand of hair over his shoulder to his front.
Thump! Thump!
He stumbled backward in shock.
Holding the hair in his hand, yet it still trailed on the ground, one could only imagine its length.
A verse floated through Xia Yu's mind, nearly making him burst into recitation:
Should my hair reach my waist, would it please a young man to marry me?
But damn it, I'm not the marrying kind!
