Whether it was an epic or a tragedy and comedy.
Tang Qi instinctively believed it should have been a grand narrative—tragic and magnificent, or warm and joyful. In any case, it should not have looked like this.
The scene several meters away was exceptionally intense, and in the eyes of many civilizations and races, it was not something children under eighteen should see. It needed to be censored and blocked.
Of course, with Tang Qi's eyesight, there was no difference between a few meters and a few hundred meters. It was all a steaming live broadcast.
Only now did he finally realize what the other smell permeating the room, aside from the sour stench of food, was.
"I didn't enter the wrong world, but I should have checked the guide first."
Tang Qi frowned and admonished himself.
Yet for a better experience, he still did not call up the so-called guide, even though all it would take was a thought.
In truth, the activity taking place on that soft bed was not why he frowned. The physical exchange between a female and male of a species was not dirty or disgusting at all. Beyond representing "desire," it also represented love and the continuation of life.
What left Tang Qi helpless and dark-faced was that this world's "protagonist" was clearly not an ordinary male.
He was a human man of around thirty, with golden-brown curls and a handsome face. The curve at the corner of his mouth resembled a smile, making him seem wickedly charming.
His body was strong, with perfect muscles and proportions.
It was merely his behavior that made Tang Qi find him difficult to look at directly.
He was sprawled across the bed, wearing a clearly hand-knitted red sweater on his upper body. Behind him was a human