"I don't have paper either,"
An Su said with a smile.
In fact, he did have it.
Obviously, Assyria's expression instantly stiffened.
His face looked more constipated than actual constipation—though he was indeed constipated.
His lips trembled slightly, his pupils contracted and then slowly dilated, he lowered his gaze and finally let out a soft sigh as if he had made some kind of decision, "In that case, please wait for me a moment."
Assyria headed back, and after a rustling sound, he finally came out, turned on the tap in the washroom, and fiercely scrubbed his fingers, washing them several times as if trying to scrub off his skin.
This guy is really cruel.
Fingers are also paper—thought An Su to himself.
"Please, don't let what happened today get out,"
Assyria said after a long silence, "Please don't let a second person know. The pre-inspection bell has rung for the last time, there's only one minute left until the room-check, let's leave quickly."
