Just a little bit, it was off by just a little bit—if Jiang Qingkui really had any experience at all, she would have already ascended on the spot and "enlightened" Zhou Wang to death.
Besides those more official bets, the various little "games" they played every day were countless—things like "Xue Ding'e's base layer," "damp selfies," and so on.
A thousand‑mile dike collapses in an ant hole.
And that solid, unbreachable heart defense Jiang Qingkui had built from childhood, which had never been broken by any man, had long since become riddled with holes through all the days and nights of pushing and pulling with Zhou Wang.
It was obvious that normally Jiang Qingkui would never take the initiative to bring up these topics, let alone joke about them with Zhou Wang, yet right now she was saying it openly.
"This time, I want to make a bet with myself."
