Shān Wúlán half-reposed against the pillows on the bed, though the mattress sat somewhat crooked now that its foot was no longer propped up by that volume of the Sword Canon.
Startled just moments ago by Shan Wuque’s sudden voice, a thin layer of perspiration had broken out across her delicate, slender hands, causing her to instinctively pull away from Su Bei’s large grip.
She then crossed her arms over her chest, using them—along with a cascade of three thousand strands of flowing dark hair—to shield the breathtaking, undulating scenery of her bosom. Her slender, jade-white legs were tightly crossed, her toes curling nervously, while her exquisite head was turned stubbornly to the side, refusing to meet the gaze of Su Bei and Shan Wuque, who had hurried in.
Chapter 129