Ziran, soaked in fragrant sweat, slapped her soft couch with her small hand, then hopped up, spun in the air in a graceful arc, and landed steadily on the floor.
"Hm?" The moment her feet touched the ground, she felt something was different—a lot lighter around her chest.
Ziran looked down and saw her own feet.
Her pretty face instantly filled with melancholy, as she sighed, "An hour ago, I couldn't even see my toes; now I can."
"His treatment actually worked that well, my figure shrank so fast."
She squeezed with both hands, measuring herself. Her hands were always small, and before she couldn't even grasp it, but now she could.
Then, Ziran ran over to the floor-length mirror, her tall, graceful silhouette reflected in the glass.
She studied herself, disappointment washing over her pretty face.
She could clearly see her figure had shrunk by a size.
Not so perky anymore, and not so lifted either.
