The Prisoner in the Lab

Jing Jiu drew back his line of sight from the universe, turned around to open the door of the room, and walked into the living room. He took off the hoodie before he sat on the soft-cushion chair.

Though this world had a low-level civilization, some parts of it were laudable; for instance, this soft chair was more comfortable to sit on than his bamboo chair.

Zong Lizi was combing her silvery long hair meticulously. Seeing him walk out of the study room matter-of-factly, she couldn't help but feel upset. As she was about to scold him, she restrained herself from losing her temper after she saw his face without the hoodie; her voice grew more amiable.

"Is it time? Actually, I'd like to know why you're so interested in the news. Did you come from above? Or were you mistreated by your stepmother?"

She could in no way resist his face, otherwise she wouldn't have agreed to share the rent with him a few days ago.