"Him? He's chatting with another narrow-b."
Li Yan suddenly felt emptiness beneath his buttocks; with a straightening of his lower legs and a forceful turn of his waist, he flipped over, but still thudded into the depths with a splash!
Smack!
Li Yan's right hand clutched the edge of the chair, desperately trying to pull himself out, as the sticky darkness tugged at his body, half of his face already sunken into the massage chair.
Two pitch-black hands reached out from behind the chair, tightly strangling Li Yan.
"Stay with me..."
The man's voice was somber.
He stretched out his calloused hand to cover the screen, his fingertips slowly emerging from the TV.
Arms, waist, thighs.
Finally, the sound of leather shoes lightly touching the ground.
The man was wearing beige suit, his eye rings were dark as if he hadn't slept for a long time.
Trapped in the quagmire-like massage chair and unable to move, Li Yan's eyes rolled around, and he mumbled:
