"You..." Her face was blushing, breathing, wheezing, Qing'e, rich, full and beautiful, and she was so angry with Chen Jiu that she could not help staring at him and scolding, "Chen Jiu, I'm the president of the hospital. I'm like this now. You should be satisfied?"

"Dean, what did you say just now? Aren't you confident enough to make it soft? Why are you so depressed now? Chen Jiu's quiet tune. Theatre.

"I... I am the president of a college, but your master. How can you blaspheme and desecrate my holiness? It's going to be sent by heaven!" Qing'e was angry.

"Dean, if you don't want to do it, let...