Chapter Eighteen: Wu Fu

ocking bed. Miaoyu leaned back languidly, supporting her chin with one hand, her curves sculpted to perfection. Her eyes were distant, as if she couldn't be bothered with the middle-aged man's "self-... wind.There were no trees in sight, but the grass was knee-high.>Crystal clear, it doesn't resemble the desert sea. Instead, it feels like a water town somewhere - if you ignore the surrounding yellow...