Seeing that Ye Jingtang had raised his head and puffed out his chest to prove that he wasn't a lustful person, Daoist Xuanji's eyes were playful. She leaned back a little to rest her plump butt on the table, crossed her arms over her chest, and made a watermelon squeezing gesture, intentionally or otherwise. "Is that so?"
Daoist Xuanji's figure was very well-proportioned. Although the size of her chest couldn't compare to the three girls of the imperial family, and she would only be asking for humiliation if she compared herself to Third Lady, the scale wasn't small. It was just enough to hold one fully with one hand.
At this moment, her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she deliberately squeezed. Her clothes showed the tension of being almost unable to bear the burden. She had the unique temperament of a demoness and the Goddess of Mercy, and her lethality was even more astonishing.
