In the vast living room, Li Su could not help rubbing his forehead as he looked at Xue Xue and Zhao Yan, whom he had not seen for nearly half a year.
He had originally held out some hope that Xue Bugui was merely joking with him, but he had never expected the old man to actually arrange it.
He had to admit that he did enjoy watching Qiong Yao dramas.
But if he himself had to become one of the characters in a Qiong Yao drama, he would absolutely decline with thanks.
At that moment, the two women silently watched him.
Though they were seated opposite him, their positions were exceedingly subtle, forming a left-and-right pincer that trapped Li Su between their gazes.
Zhao Yan was not so bad; her gaze was more appraising than anything else.
Xue Xue, however, was different. Her eyes were like knives, as though she wanted to see straight through Li Su.
Maintaining the stance of "if the enemy does not move, neither will I," Li Su sat calmly, leisurely sipping the tea his maid had prepared for him.
That was right. Not only did he have his own room in the Xue Family, he also had servants.
There were eight of them in total, all sixteen-year-old beauties with graceful figures. If this had been back when he had just transmigrated, never mind every day and every night—at the very least, he would have spent a full day and night with them.
Of course, they were not merely absurdly beautiful.
Their strength was quite solid as well; all of them were at the peak of True Immortal.
When Xue Bugui had told him this, Li Su could feel the envy in the man's eyes. He had even bluntly said that not even direct descendants