The bigshot nuker who the players were talking about on the global chat was occupied at the moment.
Li Chunhua, whose eyes were drawn to the familiarity of the man's face, kept scratching her scalp and didn't pay any heed to wannabe adopted sons and daughters or info-seekers on the global chat.
Her eyes traced the contours of the man, from the hair, blacker than squid ink, to his skin tone resembling the newly boiled and peeled egg, then to his sharp brows and long, lush eyelashes, finer than the high-quality brush bristles aunties would use to caramelize the roasted meat on their grills.
His cheeks, which have a slight blush similar to crystal juicy peaches from the spiritual orchard grown in their sect, were repeatedly plucked clean by Senior Sister and her.
