Jiang Feng was really somewhat out of control at this moment, and Murong Qian's face was getting redder. She bit her red lips with her pearly teeth, her body weakly laid on the blanket, her eyes half-opened, exuding a charming bashfulness.
"You little rascal, what... what are you doing? Is this really helping me heal?"
On her heavenly, noble, and stunningly beautiful face, that irresistible bashful expression appeared once again.
Jiang Feng's mouth felt even drier, and his hand involuntarily shifted a bit upwards.
Murong Qian couldn't take it anymore, feeling Jiang Feng's fingertips tracing her body with an indescribable discomfort, yet equally indescribable comfort.
A flame within her tender heart slowly began to burn once more.
"Mmm..."
The soft, melodious moan echoed once more, with infinite bashfulness in her voice: "You little rascal, what... what exactly are you trying to do? My foot is frostbitten, not my..."
