The atmosphere at the desk was somewhat awkward.
Zhao Rong stared at the rosewood teacup that Zhu Yourong held in her hand, but the position of the teacup was quite particular, right in front of a certain embarrassing spot.
When Zhao Rong had just blurted out in shock, Zhu Yourong stiffened, her hand holding the tea froze as if she had never expected him to suddenly utter such words. At this moment, she looked at Zhao Rong with a slightly dazed expression, only to see his eyes downturned, fixed on a certain spot, with a gaze that was direct, naked, and fervent.
"Ah?" Zhu Yourong's slightly parted lips and the cheeks that immediately blushed red, were especially noticeable under the bright daylight due to her porcelain-white skin.
"I was asking whether this well water is much."
Zhao Rong urgently explained, staring at the teacup, but then it seemed as if he realized something, his gaze beyond the cup suddenly crashed into a captivating pair of hills.
