After 7 a.m. to 9 a.m., there were hardly any people in the shop. Lin Qiao let her achy shoulder droop, and Li Guifen, noticing it, wanted to give her a massage. Suddenly thinking of something, she said, "Ahem, Tingfan, you help your sister-in-law with a massage; our strength is small, it won't work well."
Hearing this, Song Tingfan nodded, "Alright." After speaking, he washed his hands and started massaging Lin Qiao.
Lin Qiao wasn't embarrassed; Song Tingfan was indeed skilled at massaging. The pressure on her shoulders was strong, clearly more than a few years ago, but it wasn't painful.
Li Guifen laughed so much her eyes narrowed to slits. It was just right this way.
When the two get a bit closer, feelings develop. She couldn't believe that with Tingfan being so handsome, the girl wouldn't have any thoughts.
She had to admit she understood Lin Qiao's appreciation for good looks quite well.
