"Let me help you."

Shen yuecang encircles her waist from behind, gently clasps it in her arms, holding it firmly and firmly. The warm body temperature suddenly sweeps her whole body. Her long arm easily snatches the flower in her hand. Her chin is on her head, and her lips are slightly pursed. In this way, she sprinkles the water one by one.

the dim light is printed on the two faces, one soft like water, the other cold like frost.

"you are holding me as a pillow..." Zong Xia can't move either. He is allowed to hold himself tightly in his arms.

he seems to like this posture very...