"Maybe I should do it myself." Her hand was all bandaged up; she should be fine on her own, "Are you going to cook?"
"The soup is simmering, and your hand isn't very agile." Mu Liang refused Qiao Xia.
Qiao Xia had a pair of slender legs. She wasn't too tall or too short, standing at 1.66 meters, petite and exquisite with long, fair-skinned legs that were shapely and pleasing to the eye.
She had always been aware of her assets, so she especially liked wearing short skirts and hot pants in the summer, looking youthful, bright, and great at showing off her long legs.
Mu Liang had applied medicine, noticed her wince in pain, and even blew on it—the warm breath brushing against her somewhat icy skin gave Qiao Xia goosebumps and turned her cheeks a shade of pink.
"Your legs are pretty nice." While applying the medicine unaffectedly, Mu Liang casually dropped a compliment.
Qiao Xia, "..."
