"Beauty, are your legs in golden proportion? I stared at them for a long time, but I couldn't find anything wrong with them."
Song Yanze was leaning on the edge of the bar, spinning a virtual glass of whiskey in his hand, with a smile on his lips that the system couldn't even calculate. The girl in front of her was wearing a Barcelona jersey, her blond hair was tied into a ponytail, and her face was as delicate as a painting. When she heard this, she covered her mouth and smiled, her ears turning red.
"Why are you so poor-mouthed?"
"Poor?" Song Yanze leaned forward and lowered his voice, "I'm telling the truth. Look, the line of your calf, the moment you exert force when playing football, the gastrocnemius muscle contracts, the Achilles tendon stretches, and the golden section is exactly at 0.618 - I am not good at mathematics, but when I see you, I suddenly understand what aesthetics is."
The girl laughed so hard that her shoulders shook. Several female fans nearby also came over and started making noises.
"Brother Song is doing this again!"
"Yesterday, you said my eyes were like stars, so today you have someone else?"
"What do you know? Brother Song is getting both rain and dew!"
Song Yanze raised his hands in surrender, with an expression on his face that showed he was not ashamed even if he was exposed: "Hey, hey, sisters, please spare your lives. I just don't like to see beautiful things buried. When you stand together, it's called a colorful thing. I can't control my mouth, and I start to praise myself."
Behind the bar, the bartender Lao Zhang was wiping his glasses expressionlessly. He is an NPC, set up as a taciturn retired player. He opens this bar and spends his days wiping glasses, pouring wine, and wiping glasses.
