She did not fall victim to the brain-melting smile.
She just turned her head, looking at him with the flat, deadpan, utterly unamused expression of a health inspector finding a rat in the pantry.
"Are you cold?" Ji'an asked, her baritone voice completely devoid of any romantic inflection.
Liuyun paused, his foxy smile faltering for a fraction of a millisecond. "Excuse me?"
"Your robe," Ji'an pointed a lazy finger at the heavy amethyst silk practically sliding off his shoulders. "It looks very heavy, but you seem entirely incapable of closing the buttons. Am I mistaken?"
"And your chest is covered in metal chains. Metal is a thermal conductor. You are actively leaching your own body heat into the ambient atmosphere. If you're chilly, just ask Madam Rouge to turn up the thermal arrays. You don't have to suffer for fashion."
The succubi gasped in absolute horror.
Madam Rouge's jaw dropped.
No one spoke to Su Liuyun like that.
He was the fantasy.
