Zhou Li really wished he was Wang Yuan, an old-fashioned traditional cigarette that would allow him to blow a smoke ring and then, with solemnity and depth, reason with Lord Qianhu. Sadly, in Da Ming, there was no King Furong, nor the Red Envelope Group that could make foreigners forget their worries, and certainly, no indestructible e-cigarettes existed.
Therefore, Zhou Li could only chew on the grass in his mouth, heave a sigh, and slowly said,
"Do you know why I asked the King of Han if he wanted to know the color of my underwear?"
Upon hearing this sentence, Qianhu, originally immersed in his own inner world, became stunned.
"Uh... Are you trying to tell the King of Han that some things are a person's secret, and digging too deep is not good?"
After a brief yet difficult silence, Qianhu tentatively asked.
"No."
Zhou Li shook his head, looking morose, and said, "I'm not wearing any."
Qianhu instinctively glanced over.
"Then do you know why I didn't wear any today?"
