"You also read medical books?" Han Zhan stared at the ground, trying not to look at that indecent Song Ci.
Song Ci grunted in acknowledgment. Seeing that Han Zhan was unmoved by her teasing, she felt bored.
Returning to her serious self, Song Ci walked up to the bookshelf and ran her fingers over those medical books. She said in a low voice, "My father was a surgeon. After coming to China, he even learned Traditional Chinese Medicine massage techniques."
"After we get married, I can give you a massage after you get home from a tiring day at work." As for how she was going to do it, it depended on her massage techniques.
Han Zhan felt tingly all over when she said those words.
But Han Zhan didn't dare to think too much.
For an old man in his thirties, some thoughts easily got out of hand.
"Your father is Chinese?" Upon hearing Song Ci's description, Han Zhan thought her father was a Chinese man who grew up abroad.
