"It's fine," Lin Feng replied lazily, his eyes still closed, his voice already carrying a hint of sleepiness. "It's only hard at the start. You'll get used to it."
His tone was casual, unconcerned, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.
Daoist Falling Snow's lips pressed together faintly at his words, but she said nothing more.
After a brief pause, she slowly raised her hands.
A moment later, she placed them lightly on his shoulders.
She was relieved perhaps more than she cared to admit that he was still fully clothed. The thin barrier of fabric gave her just enough distance to maintain a semblance of composure.
Carefully, almost cautiously, she began.
Her movements were stiff at first, lacking rhythm, her fingers unsure of where to press or how much force to apply. This was a battlefield she had never stepped onto before, and it showed.
Yet despite her inexperience, her hands were soft, her control precise.
