"I'm sorry to disturb you, Senior."
The novelist began by apologizing, her politeness almost heart-wrenching.
Liu Zheng glanced at Niu Ma, finding that compared to the novelist, all other bizarre residents he knew could only be considered barbarians from beyond the borders.
"What are you looking at? Keep staring and I'll poke your eyeballs out."
Niu Ma menacingly waved his broken horn.
"Tsk."
He shifted his gaze away.
"No worries, we don't need to be so formal. What's up?"
Liu Zheng asked.
"Here's the thing, the Metropolitan Writers Association has organized a salon dance, and they invited me to attend. I'd like to ask you, Senior, to be my plus one and accompany me."
The novelist said.
"Huh?"
He was taken aback for a moment.
"I know this is sudden, and if you'd rather not, that's fine. Sorry to bother you, Senior."
The novelist, thinking he was reluctant, spoke in a calm tone.
However, Liu Zheng could detect a thread of sadness in that bland tone.
