Guest room, on the big bed.
Cheng Zhu opened his mouth, gasping heavily.
"Don't move." He glanced at the scenery on Shen Qingning's smooth and beautiful back and voiced a reminder.
Then, he got out of bed, walking around and searching for a tissue box in the room.
"Rip—," he pulled out five tissues at once.
Cheng Zhu turned back for a look, and saw the leggy figure lying flat, completely motionless.
More interestingly, she had turned her face away, half buried in the pillow, with her other cheek covered by her arm.
She looked a lot like an ostrich now.
But an ostrich, burying its head in the sand, deceiving itself this way, doesn't it allow the enemy to act at will?
Looking at her like this, Cheng Zhu's face revealed a mischievous smile.
Holding the tissues in his hand, he patiently wiped her clean, smooth, and beautiful back, back and forth, slowly and carefully.
Then, when wiping the last time, the tissue slowly moved downward to the arched curve of her hips.
