Wen Ruan hit He Yanci several times. He didn't react much, even pushing his arm outward slightly, allowing her to hit.
Wen Ruan didn't use much force, and her hand became sore, so she stopped hitting.
He Yanci smiled faintly, "Does your hand hurt?"
"How could it not hurt? I really don't know how the flesh on your chest can be this hard; my hand's all red," Wen Ruan complained, pouting. She extended her hand to He Yanci. "Rub it for me."
He Yanci gazed at her with soft eyes, holding her delicate hand and kissing it before gently massaging it.
Wen Ruan's lips curved up.
The texture of He Yanci's fingertips was clear, with faint calluses, rubbing against her soft skin. It didn't hurt; it felt like a massage, very comfortable, and the unnamed irritation inside Wen Ruan seemed to be smoothed out.