Wei Anning watched him in shock as he pulled down his trousers' zipper and kicked the pants aside at the foot of the bed, then staggered towards the bathroom. "What, what are you doing?"
The man didn't look back, mumbling hazily with a tinge of grievance, "I smell of alcohol, the lady despises it, I need to wash up."
Wei Anning was lost for words, glaring at his retreating figure. As he walked, he shed the cumbersome shirt, leaving only a pair of white boxer briefs on his perfect silhouette void of any extra fat—broad shoulders narrowing down to sleek hips, his physique more ideal than even David's.
Watching him was almost making Wei Anning's nose bleed. Just as men fantasize about women's bodies, women do the same toward men's. Especially since Leng Youchen had always covered up in front of her to hide the fact that he could walk.
She had been too embarrassed to look at his body directly, but now she realized that every inch of him was perfection.
