Comedy, Tragedy

"You're maligning me! Wasn't that the message the film was trying to convey?" The corners of Shen Zhilie's lips lifted in a smile. He was clearly satisfied with himself.

As he spoke, Ye Qianqian could feel the hardness prodding her from behind. Not only had it not gone down, but it had also grown to even more embarrassing proportions.

Shen Zhilie rested his hands atop hers, slowly entwining his fingers with hers. He mischievously continued playing with the clay that was constantly rotating on the pottery machine.

The shape of the clay kept changing, and it looked horrible.

At the same time, Ye Qianqian found that this scene they presented carried some indescribable pornographic undertones.

Damn it! I've brainwashed!

Ye Qianqian squirmed for a moment. "Let go of me! Move away!"

"I'm actually quite curious." Shen Zhilie suddenly changed the topic. "In the movie that you watched, what did they do after they played with the clay?"