Fang Zhixing's pupils shrank, and he quickly raised the fire striker, bringing it close to her back.
One by one, the tadpole characters emerged in a row.
His breath became involuntarily heavy following that.
A robust breath exhaled, huffing and puffing, blowing onto Yan Hongtao's back.
Yan Hongtao felt her back itch slightly and couldn't help but shake back and forth, her snow-white back arching and then falling back.
Her constant movements affected Fang Zhixing's examination of the cultivation technique.
Fang Zhixing immediately raised his hand, pressed one hand against her shoulder, and supported her waist with the other, steadying her body.
As expected, Yan Hongtao stopped fidgeting.
Fang Zhixing watched unwaveringly, and after a moment, the text ended.
The vast amount of characters nearly covered Yan Hongtao's entire back.
