The next day, Cheng Zhu dragged his suitcase downstairs with Hu Yan's assistance.
Before getting into the car, he deliberately moved the small pillow from the back seat to the driver's seat.
His back needed it.
After last night's ordeal, Cheng Zhu wouldn't have been so reckless if this was before his rebirth.
Approaching his thirties, he knew he should measure his strengths and not drain the pond just to catch the fish.
What you overspend today, you pay for tomorrow.
But now, reborn and not even 19 yet, it hardly mattered.
Instead, it was Hu Yan who could only be described as extraordinarily gifted.
Her tolerance was simply incredible.
Not like the counselor who, upon pulling away, would let out an inescapable "pop."
She made you feel like her flesh was welcoming you, accommodating you, enveloping you.
"Let's go!" Cheng Zhu rolled down the window and bid farewell to the female artist.
Hu Yan nodded. "Goodbye, boss."
