"Dear readers, I am the famous fried fish in the Daqi Dynasty, oh no, the storyteller - Mr. Yu! Hey, don't roll your eyes at that person below. That's right, I'm talking about you - a romantic, suave, high-ranking, wealthy man with a millionaire Mr. Guan, oh no, Miss Gong Zhuge! How are you and the young masters doing? If you don't like it, why don't you write a drama about it?
"Hey! Do you want to talk too much about my young master?! I will write the script myself!"
Mr. Yu was messy in the wind. He brushed his hair and silently added a sentence in his notebook, "It's just a play. It doesn't matter if it comes on or ends. The only one who knows the taste of it..."
The book was suddenly snatched away, and behind him was a familiar smell and temperature. He whispered in his ear, "Gong Zhuoge, why didn't I know that postpartum symptoms would be ejaculation, huh?"
The person in his arms turned around and smiled, and the pen in his hand drew a long line on the white clothes, "Hehe~"
"You are serious, you are a good painter." The fragrance of herbs filled his lips and teeth, and he held her lips in his mouth and said, "Thanks to you for this painting by Yu Lihan, I am very happy."