[Art. While not Mingjue levels of "god, art," Jiang Cheng still doesn't have any affinity for it exactly outside of the very basics, if that. He is very much his mother's son.
It was all tradition, and politics, and combat.]
Oh? [As if he didn't think porn was anything more than eye candy and a handjob. He poles the boat through the water at an easy pace, toward a copse of trees on a tiny island out in the middle of the lake. The trees aren't tall so much as bend and willowing, a nice shrouded shade hanging over the water.] Art was more to my father's liking.
[He peers at Huaisang.] A pervert perhaps. [Is he joking???]
no subject
It was all tradition, and politics, and combat.]
Oh? [As if he didn't think porn was anything more than eye candy and a handjob. He poles the boat through the water at an easy pace, toward a copse of trees on a tiny island out in the middle of the lake. The trees aren't tall so much as bend and willowing, a nice shrouded shade hanging over the water.] Art was more to my father's liking.
[He peers at Huaisang.] A pervert perhaps. [Is he joking???]