Qinghe returned to her small apartment only to be struck by a powerful visual impact. She instinctively raised her hand to cover her nose. This was a live, fragrant vision of a handsome man fresh from the bath.
Weisheng Yueren was currently only wrapped in a white bath towel, with droplets still falling from his hair and body. They slowly trickled down his muscular physique. Holding a towel in his hand, he seemed to be about to dry his hair. For some reason, Qinghe was compelled to approach him eagerly and flatteringly, took the towel from Weisheng Yueren, and decided to dry his hair for him.
