Her body's muscles were getting more and more beautiful, but Ye Muyu was feeling uncomfortable in her heart and was deliberately looking for trouble.
"My hands hurt." Ye Muyu patted the water and turned around with difficulty, signaling for someone to help her massage.
Chu Heng grabbed her hand with his large one and started massaging without saying much.
Ye Muyu felt comfortable instantly, and she wasn't lying—her wrist did hurt after holding a pen and writing for so long.
"What were you doing? Why does your hand hurt?" Chu Heng asked with a frown.
Ye Muyu lazily yawned, "I was just writing some stories. When the bathhouse opens, I'll let the storytellers tell these stories. Currently, the stories are too simple and not interesting enough."
"You don't have to write them yourself. I can find an Attendant Student specialized in writing; you can dictate, and he can write." Chu Heng suggested.
