In a skyscraper in Shengjing City.
A middle-aged man, slightly balding, sat in his office, lecherously watching his secretary handle documents.
The secretary was tall, with a fine facial structure, and wore a pair of black-framed glasses—a standard model of a white-collar beauty.
However, the middle-aged man had lustful thoughts but lacked the courage to act on them, and he sneakily looked only when he could; whenever the secretary looked up, he hurriedly averted his gaze.
Everything seemed normal, except it would have been even more normal if there wasn't a white flood dragon coiled up behind the man.
The flood dragon carefully held a cigarette as thick as a forearm with its large claws, and enjoyed puffing out clouds of smoke.
The smoke exhaled coursed obediently into the ventilation duct, ensuring no one else could smell it.
