Happy Little Farmer
Chapter 413

Chapter 413: Chapter 413

"Fun, huh? Then play!"

Diwu Ming kicked off her high heels, stretching her long, fair legs out in front of Yang Fan. Her bare, creamy feet rested on Yang Fan’s legs.

Her action instantly tensed all the nerves in Yang Fan’s body.

He just wanted to examine the small knives, not to play with Diwu Ming’s legs.

Moreover, following the direction of her thigh, he could barely make out a hint of something intimate, seemingly red.

A little glimpse of the edge had leaked out.

Yang Fan carefully opened the knife pouch hanging on Diwu Ming’s thigh and pulled out a small knife.

Just as he had imagined, it was incredibly sharp.

This knife, with one slice, should easily separate someone’s neck.

Indeed, she lived up to being a woman of the underworld.

"You just want to play with the knife?" Diwu Ming asked with a smirk.

Yang Fan nodded, "Although I’ve never used such a thing, I don’t think there’s any man who could resist the allure of blades and swords. There’s something about them that just feels very attractive."

"More fun than my legs?" Diwu Ming asked softly, raising her eyebrows slightly.

That was another damnably difficult question.

Yang Fan laughed, "Of course, they’re not as fun as Sister Ming’s legs."

Since a comparison had already been made, Yang Fan certainly had to make a choice.

"If my legs aren’t as fun, why do you play with them instead of going for a broken knife?" Diwu Ming asked.

Now, she seemed to stop hiding her intentions, speaking very openly and frankly.

"Sister Ming, don’t do this, I give in!" Yang Fan said.

Since things were already so brazen, Yang Fan had no choice but to steel himself and face it.

He had to make things clear.

"What are you chickening out for? Worried that playing with my legs will get you killed by me?" Diwu Ming asked.

Yang Fan weakly nodded.

Exactly.

Diwu Ming laughed out loud, "If you played with my legs without my permission, you would certainly be killed, but since it was my request, you can play however you want."

Yang Fan laughed, "Mainly, I want to play whenever I feel like playing."

"Oh, quite ambitious, aren’t you? Well, go ahead and play, I give you permission," Diwu Ming said, moving her fair, delicate foot forward a bit more, placing it on Yang Fan’s ’little tent,’ and started to gently rub.

Yang Fan hadn’t expected Diwu Ming to take things this far all of a sudden.

Now he could truly say he was being pushed into this whether he was ready or not. Even without a diamond drill, it seemed he had to take on this porcelain job. Compared to taking advantage of Diwu Ming, refusing her might lead to even more trouble.

Up to this day, in fact, Yang Fan still hadn’t been able to figure out Diwu Ming’s temperament.

She seemed to be a woman who was very hard to fathom.

Her true feelings of joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure were always hidden behind her exterior, and she concealed them well.

"Since you’re so generous, Sister Ming, I really won’t hold back," Yang Fan said with a smile, placing his hand on Diwu Ming’s smooth thigh. It was truly very slippery, to the extent that his hand could hardly stay in place.

FInally seeming satisfied, Diwu Ming’s lips curled into a shallow smile as she raised her glass of Baijiu.

"Here’s to you finally playing with my legs!"

Yang Fan’s mouth twitched fiercely.

What kind of ridiculous toast was that? It was a bit too exaggerated...

Yang Fan could only smile helplessly and raised his glass to clink it with Diwu Ming’s.

"Move up a bit, Fanzi dear, men are supposed to play higher up on a woman’s leg, aren’t they? You just keep circling around my knee, be bold, Fanzi dear, I won’t bite," Diwu Ming said.

Her eyes, full of stories, lingered with a thread of silk, brimming with seductive charm.

With her being so forward, Yang Fan, in contrast, hemmed and hawed with all sorts of propriety, which made him seem less like a man.

With newfound confidence, Yang Fan looked around, noticed there was no one nearby, and boldly slid his hand up her bare thigh, reaching into the golden valley wrapped by Diwu Ming’s panties.

It was very warm there, and when the weather outside was hot, the temperature there seemed even higher.

Diwu Ming looked at Yang Fan with a glass in her hand, her expression a mix of a smile and not, and lightly laughed, "I only asked you to touch my leg, I didn’t say anything about touching anywhere else, did I?"

"Am I allowed to touch it?" Yang Fan asked.

"Guess!" Diwu Ming said with a light smile.

Yang Fan tilted his head and chuckled, "Whether you allow me or not, I just want to touch."

"You’re not afraid I’ll kill you now?" Diwu Ming asked with a light laugh.

Yang Fan sniffed, "I can’t handle my alcohol, just a sip and I’m already tipsy. You know what they say, ’Liquor emboldens the coward’, right now I’m so brazen I scare myself."

Diwu Ming laughed and pushed her glass forward, "Come on then, bolster that courage."

The subtext was incredibly clear.

It was practically an open invitation for Yang Fan to go further.

As the glasses clinked together, Yang Fan took a sip and at the same time, his hand ventured inside Diwu Ming’s panties.

Given that he’d already taken a seat, he might as well be bold and unrestrained.

He went all the way in one move, his palm seizing the golden valley at Diwu Ming’s crotch, his fingers exploring the edges tentatively.

Diwu Ming’s most intimate area didn’t match her personality at all.

This woman was still a little tiger, with no trace of hair to be felt, just a smooth valley down there.

The sensation on Yang Fan’s hand might not be very distinct, but it was likely the structure of a single-line canyon.

Yang Fan used his middle finger to part the valley and slowly squeezed in.

Diwu Ming watched Yang with a smile, her gaze fixed and immobile.

Having gone this far, Yang Fan completely let go.

Once he let go of his inhibitions concerning Diwu Ming’s status, his original confidence surged.

With Diwu Ming looking straight at him, he returned her gaze and slowly rubbed the valley with his middle finger.

"If you want to put it in, then you should take it out first," Diwu Ming suddenly said.

Yang Fan retorted, "Why? Having second thoughts?"

"The words ’second thoughts’ are not in my dictionary. I just suddenly remembered, you’ve just been fighting, your hand might still have traces of someone’s blood," Diwu Ming said nonchalantly.

Yang Fan suddenly realized, "That seems... actually true."

He withdrew his hand, about to clean it with some tea water.

But Diwu Ming acted first; she took the glass, grabbed Yang Fan’s hand, poured some alcohol on it, and scrubbed it earnestly, then raised her eyebrows with a light laugh and said, "Now, you can send it in."

Yang Fan dried his hands with a napkin and reached into Diwu Ming’s skirt once more.

This time, with just a simple rub, he slowly pushed inside.

"Sister Ming, with your tightness, it seems like only one finger can fit," Yang Fan joked.

Diwu Ming was much tighter than he had imagined.

The snugness he could feel with his finger inside was enough to be considered very tight.