Chen Mo sat on the bench while Yan Peipei lay on her side, this time in a different direction, with her head resting on Chen Mo's thigh. Her delicate fingers reached down and scratched at the gap in the door, drawing out a strand of viscous fluid.
"You've turned me into a rotten vixen with your poking."
"Don't speak so crudely. It's late; you should go back, right? As a freshman, it's not a good look to be out all night."
"So what if I am? The worst they can do is expel me, but the school can't afford to lose me."
She seemed quite confident, her physical assets unmatched by others. Aside from their different industries, she was actually the person most similar to Chen Mo--not Xu Yilin, and she was even more confident than Chen Mo.
With her physical capital, she could easily surpass others, and in time, becoming the national champion would be a breeze.
