Paper is always shallow, true knowledge requires personal experience.
Our ancestors definitely had culture.
Chen Yiyang only knew it smelled fragrant. Our ancestors coined the phrase 'fragrance penetrating the flesh'.
Fragrance penetrating the flesh, indeed.
Such a nice smell.
After the bath, Xu Xiaosheng was already flushed red.
Even though the two hadn't done anything yet, Xu Xiaosheng felt as if all the bones in her body had been drained, clinging to Chen Yiyang like a soft creature.
Chen Yiyang lifted her out of the bathtub, then found a towel to wrap her in.
As for their clothes, they had disappeared long before they got into the bathtub.
"You've interpreted the poem. Isn't it time for you to leave?" Xu Xiaosheng, lying on Chen Yiyang's shoulder, seemed to have used all her strength to say this sentence.
"Who says Yan Xuan only wrote one poem?" Chen Yiyang said to Xu Xiaosheng softly in her ear, while carrying her to the bedroom. He then offered to share another poem.
