Beside Sword Lake, Little Dugu hugged her knees, sitting on the soft mossy grass, smiling faintly, teasing the blade of grass in front of her.
Ning Fan sat next to her, quietly observing her profile. The genuine smile made Ning Fan feel momentarily lost.
That smile truly resembled the one of the sword ancestor in ancient paintings.
"Could it really be such a coincidence..." Ning Fan chuckled, shaking his head, reaching out to stroke Dugu's waterfall-like black hair.
Today, Dugu did not resist any intimate gestures from Ning Fan.
Instead, she leaned her body, resting against Ning Fan.
The subtle fragrance of a maiden wafted into his nose, causing Ning Fan's breath to catch.
Uncontrollably, his hand caressed Little Dugu's soft waist, feeling the softness through her thin shirt.
His hand gradually moved upwards, slightly touching Dugu's proud softness.
Dugu remained unresponsive, only emitting soft breathing sounds.
Fallen asleep again...
