"You aren't seriously considering having Ah Ya become your foot-washing maid, are you? This is an insult to me," Black Demonic Spirit sat down at the side.
"Oh, an insult to you? How exactly have I insulted you?" Ye Chen unwrapped the roasted chicken wrapped in straw paper, tore off a chicken leg—the chicken still steaming and the aroma was tantalizing, awakening his long-numbed stomach.
"The girl I truly like, being your foot-washing maid, isn't that the greatest insult to me?"
"A girl you truly like? I think that's the biggest lie in the world."
"What, I can't truly like someone?"
"Then tell me just how much you like her, and I'll consider whether I can help or not."
Black Demonic Spirit became much more interested and said, "Would you really help?"
"But I think, helping you is like harming someone else. It's better not to help you, or I'll go to hell," Ye Chen said.
"What are you saying, being with me equals harming others?"
