In Lin Zhenghui's eyes, what made a woman look good was a large chest.
Only buxom women could attract him, the playboy scion, just like Bingbing, the big-breasted cow.
Carrying around that pair of behemoths all day long, like a walking milch cow, she unwittingly seduced countless members of the opposite sex.
"I'll take a shower, Bingbing, keep me company," Lin Zhenghui hadn't bathed in a day and a night.
"Take your time, I'll wait for you," Yang Muer said as she watched him sniff his own clothes.
She thought to herself, "Why do you have to be so handsome for no reason, the very ceiling of men"
Those who practiced cultivation often knew a bit about face-reading and could tell at a glance that Lin Zhenghui was destined to be a lady-killer, surrounded by women all his life.
It wasn't that they specifically wanted to learn this knowledge, but in the tourist areas they faced many pious male and female pilgrims every day.
