Which one...?
Lu Yuan's words carried a certain suggestion, and although Meng Qianqian didn't want to choose any, she still subconsciously replayed the intimate details of their encounters in her mind.
She glanced at the candelabrum.
Lu Yuan raised a brow. "Shall we start by lighting the candles?"
Meng Qianqian shook her head vigorously, like a rattle-drum, her gaze shifting to the space behind him.
Lu Yuan smirked. "Tie the belt then—shall we begin with binding your hands?"
Meng Qianqian once again shook her head emphatically, looking at him with innocent wide eyes. "...Can we perhaps find another way to apologize? Ten thousand taels... no, twenty thousand... or even everything I have—would that work?"
Lu Yuan narrowed his eyes slightly. "What do you take me for? A courtesan from a brothel?"
"Little Nine wouldn't dare."
She realized the absurdity of her own suggestion. It wasn't as though he lacked silver.
