Mu Xiaoqi's movements were stiff and he turned back sharply.

I saw a man with a red mask sitting on a large European-style carved bed in his spare time.

He was wearing a black silk shirt, with two buttons open in front of him and a touch of unruly sexuality.

In his slender hand, he held a glass of red wine and saw Mu Xiaoqi find his existence. He lifted the wine up a little and took a sip.

Mu Xiaoqi immediately bent over and wanted to pick up the towel that had just been thrown to the ground to cover it. The man stopped him and said, "No picking...