Although it was done out of necessity, to Beisitian, Zhou Jiren was still a man. Her nostrils flared slightly, catching the fresh scent of soap on him, mixed with bursts of masculine energy. Her cheeks turned slightly red, feeling a bit warm.
Besides, what embarrassed Beisitian the most was that her chest was completely pressed against Zhou Jiren's back. The sensation was very obvious to her, and certainly, it was just as obvious to Zhou Jiren!
When the softness pressed down, Zhou Jiren's breath caught for a moment. He pressed his lips tightly together, controlling himself not to let his imagination run wild. He tied them both together, carefully sliding down the rope. From his appearance, even though he carried someone on his back, he seemed at ease, as if it was no big deal to him.
