The beautiful witch was sitting behind the tall desk.
The big black cat and the little black cat were lying on the soft, fluffy carpet.
Zheng Qing drooped his ears, looking dejected.
Obviously he was the one who had been lewd just now, so why did it feel like he was the one who got the short end of the stick, while the real pervert was that witch sitting behind the desk with an innocent face?
For no reason, a sentence surfaced in his mind—only when you're in a relatively higher position, with the psychological upper hand, can you act lewd. If both parties are on equal footing, you can't really be lewd.
Just like the relationship between him and the owner of this room.
"Speaking of which—"
