Tang Song continued, "Qiuqiu, we're good friends, right?"
"Yes." Her voice was very low.
"As a friend, of course I hope you get better and better, so... if it helps you get back to normal, I don't mind, and I'd be very willing to help you."
Saying this, Tang Song shamelessly moved closer, gently wrapping his arm around her waist.
His movements were casual, yet measured, not oppressive but intimate enough.
He was no longer the young guy who would blush looking a beautician in the eye or freeze when hugging a partner.
He had become a man of rich experience and high emotional intelligence, a warm and considerate man.
"This, this—"
Qiuqiu's eyes widened, her breathing was rapid, and her ample chest trembled with nervousness.
The air still lingered with the breath of their entanglement, so ambiguous that it made her entire body heat up and her limbs weak.
