Lin Huaiyu watched as Zhou Ping'an drank glass after glass, emptying the jug, and she smiled with satisfaction. Her palm slowly pressed against his shoulder.
The air around them trembled slightly with a boom.
It became sticky like gel, as if it had turned into clear waters.
Endless, uninterrupted ripples, similar to the gentle swells of the ocean, surged from all directions, impacting Zhou Ping'an's muscles and blood, and penetrating deep into his marrow.
Logically, the entry of another's strength into the body is quite a dangerous matter.
However, Zhou Ping'an didn't resist in the slightest; in fact, he felt extremely comfortable, as if he were soaking in a hot spring, and almost let out a hum of comfort.
Far from being on guard,
Zhou Ping'an was entirely open, and Lin Huaiyu took it for granted,
acting on her thoughts without even a word of explanation.
More than ten breaths passed.
