"Ah, so comfortable."
After taking a bath and lying down on the bed, Wang Fan felt his body enveloped by a marshmallow-like mattress, making him moan comfortably.
"Lie down properly."
Obediently, Wang Fan lay down on the bed, then felt something press down on his waist—a pair of slightly cold small feet stepping on him.
Feeling the 100-pound weight on his back could only be described as sheer bliss; Wang Fan felt his day's fatigue dissipate instantly.
"Boss, what are you planning to do tomorrow?"
While massaging Wang Fan's back with her feet, Zhuo Qianqian asked, "Do you have any ideas?"
Wang Fan retorted, "Is there something you want to eat?"
"How about trying to make saltwater duck?"
Wang Fan laughed, "Making saltwater duck in Nanjing feels like a challenge, is it really suitable?"
A bit annoyed, Zhuo Qianqian said, "I didn't think it was suitable either until some old restaurant claimed that you only know how to innovate, and can't make a good traditional duck."
