Hips swaying.
A pair of beautiful feet tread upon the icy floor.
Huang Fuling, this woman, is naturally bewitching.
Her greatest talent lies in ensnaring souls.
Every frown, every smile, every move she makes is enough to stir one's heart and soul.
The most shocking aspect was, as Fang Yang approached, he was stunned to discover that the high-slit, nearly translucent dress had another design to it.
It was adorned with silver chains like decorative items, glittering, yet they functioned like zippers.
A light tug, and one could behold a completely different realm.
You call this a massage?
What kind of massage technician wears such clothes?
Fang Yang's face was expressionless.
He felt that such attire was a corrupt influence within the demonic sect.
He wanted to give her a good thrashing.
Make her kneel on the ground, admit her wrongdoing, and never dare to do it again.
Approaching closer, a fragrant breeze wafted toward him.
