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"I'm just swamped every day, once I get into work I forget all about it. And by the time I remember, there are other people in the office, and I definitely don't want to die a social death."
Zhou Yuanyuan's facial features contorted as she was massaged, incessantly uttering pained moans, "Ouch, ouch," "Yes, right there, put a little more force, that's my sore spot."
"You should take a leaf out of Liang Xinting's book. Look at her during break time, she's either applying a facial mask or an eye mask, totally ignoring the gawking of her subordinates. Over time, everyone gets used to her style and no longer finds it strange."
Since fingers can only cover so much area, Yang Yuran stood up and leaned into Zhou Yuanyuan's shoulder pit with her elbow to apply pressure.
The sensation of pain mixed with numbness came in waves, rushing straight to Zhou Yuanyuan's head. She gasped from the cold, still unable to resist the magic of her meridians being stretched out.
