The prison of the Divine Constable Department.
"Oh! Isn't this Lord Ye?" The she-devil lay sideways on the stone bed covered with straw, crossing her legs, her fair feet and calves swinging comfortably: "What kind of wind blew you to my humble cell?"
Ye Weiming looked at the she-devil's familiar demeanor and couldn't help but find it amusing: "This place is the prison of our Divine Constable Department. As a third-grade arrest officer, I have management rights here, while you only have temporary residency rights. It's rather inappropriate for you to call this your cell, don't you think?"
"Alright, alright, everything here is yours." The she-devil rolled her eyes, seemingly unwilling to argue over this issue with Ye Weiming, and continued: "But to come over in the middle of the night, are you planning to keep me up all night?"
