The Moral Scruples of Trash

Li Ziran did not answer. At a time like this, it was inconvenient for him to give the two girls an answer on his own initiative, or his motives would be seriously called into question.

This not particularly large region of dense fog fell into an eerie silence. Jenny asked no more questions. Li Ziran's silence had already explained everything. Even Winnie, who had the more volatile temper, quieted down. They now had to take responsibility for what had happened—more precisely, take responsibility for themselves.

"Will you marry us?" After a long silence, Jenny suddenly asked. Her voice was clearly trembling.

What she received in return was Winnie's roar. Staring fiercely at her best friend, she cried, "Jenny, are you insane? You want to marry him? He's nothing but a jailer. He'll never be able to show his face outside the Inquisition for the rest of his life. What about your prince? The prince on a white horse you told me about?"

Jenny ignored Winnie. Tears only pattered down her cheeks. No one was more heartbroken than she was, but she understood that it had only been a dream. What was happening before her was reality. She stared quietly at Li Ziran and asked again, "Will you?"

Li Ziran smiled. He would. This was exactly the result he wanted most.

Yet he could not make a sound. That frail voice carried a drowning person's desperate plea, stirring his calm heart into turmoil.

Marry!

It was such a simple word, yet in Li Ziran's heart, it was one of the few sacred things left.

He could have countless women, but he would never truly marry one. A spouse was not suitable in this world.

The reason he hesitated was clearly because the lingering poison of that world-famous past life was affecting