Qin Feng was utterly mesmerized, his soul practically tossed aside.
His college goddess was actually appearing before him in such a manner?
You should know, this kind of scene.
Even when lying on his dorm bed, he wouldn't dare to dream of it!
"What are you looking at?"
"It's beautiful."
"Hurry up and give me the acupuncture! Look at you, so worthless. If you can't lift the witchcraft curse off me, see how I'll deal with you?"
"Bingbing, although you're in your forties or fifties and have lost some of that radiant youthfulness, you're still extremely hot, huh? Your foundation is truly good."
"You scoundrel, you're still looking?"
"If I don't get a good look, how am I going to give you the acupuncture?"
Qin Feng opened the shoddy plastic box and took out a silver needle—long, thin, and shimmering.
He pointed to the sofa bathed in 360 degrees of sunlight without a single dead angle, and said,
"Lie down on it."
"Lie down?"
