"Xiao Hei, why do you think I can't recognize or remember their faces, but I remember yours?" Chen Mo sat in front of the desk, supporting his head with his left hand and spinning a signature pen between his right fingers. "Maybe it's because I'm different from them." A warm and magnetic voice sounded. "Also, Chen Moli, I protest. The name Xiao Hei is too casual. It doesn't match my image of being handsome, chic and suave." "The protest is invalid! When I first met you, weren't you just a dark mess?" Chen Mo glanced at Xiao Hei and smiled happily.
Conception: