The Golden-skirted Goddess was merely a strand of Sister Yi's will, relying on a sliver of Divine Power to form an entity with a tangible sense of touch that was comparable to the real body.
She boasted enticingly full curves.
Xia Feng gazed upward, his cheek pressing against the cool skin of the woman's face beside him; her red lips exhaled, and her light, tranquil fragrance lingered at the edge of his nostrils.
However, beyond that, there was also a terrifying Divine Pressure causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.
Each word the Goddess uttered softly from behind him pressed down so heavily that he found it hard to breathe.
His throat was dry, and it was difficult for him to express, "Sister Yi, Sister Yi..."
But in the next moment, it felt as if his earlobe was lightly bitten by an evil snake hidden in a damp location, and a fine current of electricity shot straight from the hollow of his ear to the nerves of his cerebellum.
