Transmigrated into a lewd little pervert, the crazy boss's kiss made his legs weak.

[Host, your expression is a little scary.]

The system gave a quiet reminder.

"Shut up."

She took a deep breath, leaned the mop against the wall, and raised her hand to tidy her hair.

The hand was stretched out halfway and then pulled back; it doesn't matter whether you pay attention or not.

Then he took a step and quietly moved closer to Zhou Huai'an from behind.

Zhou Huai'an was sending a WeChat voice message to someone, cursing them.

Not satisfied with just one rant, he pressed the record button to prepare for a second one.

Then he turned around.

Right in front of me was a round face, wearing black-rimmed glasses, with a strange, expectant smile on its face.

"Holy shit—!"

Zhou Huai'an was thrown back half a meter, and his phone almost flew out of his hand.

He clutched his chest and gasped for breath for two seconds.

"Who the hell are you?! You walk around so quietly! A cleaner? Why aren't you mopping the floor properly? What are you doing here scaring people?!"

Li Yaoyao shrank back as he yelled at her.

But the light in his eyes never went out.

She pointed a finger at the phone in his hand.

Her voice was soft and gentle, with a kind of honest and conciliatory tone.

"Young Master Zhou, I overheard your phone call just now. Didn't you need someone to play basketball with?"

Zhou Huai'an looked her up and down.

His expression changed from shock to disdain.

"You? You know how to play billiards? Go mop the floor, don't make a mess here."

"You're going to lose anyway."

"Give me a chance. If I lose, I won't lose anything; if I win, I'll consider it a bonus."

Zhou Huai'an's lips twitched.

"Okay."

He put the cigarette back in his mouth, pushed open the door to the billiards room, and stepped aside to make a crack.

"If you dare mess with me, I'll make sure you leave this world straddling a hill!"

As Li Yaoyao squeezed past him, she gave him a sweet smile.

Five or six young men were already seated in the private room, sprawled haphazardly on the sofa.

Holding whiskey glasses, they all paused for a moment when they saw Zhou Huai'an lead in a cleaner.

Then they heard Zhou Huai'an's explanation clearly.

"This girl said she can play ball, and she'll play for Lao Zhao."

The laughter nearly lifted the ceiling off.

"Young Master Zhou, are you crazy? Hiring a cleaning lady to make up the numbers?"

"Are you afraid of losing to Young Master Qi and feeling too embarrassed, so you're just giving up entirely?"

"Little girl, this isn't a billiards arcade, this is snooker. Do you know how many balls are in snooker?"

"Let her hit, let her hit. I'll record it first, and if she loses, I'll send it to Young Master Qi as a joke!"

Li Yaoyao didn't reply.

She walked to the pool table, picked up a club, weighed it in her hand, and the moment she bent down, all the laughter in the private room stopped.

She bent down to brace herself against the pole, her back forming a clean, straight line.

The loose cleaning uniform tightened slightly because of this posture, and the curve from the shoulder blades to the waist was clean and beautiful, full of strength.

Like a bow drawn to its fullest extent, all the potential energy is stored in that spine.

When she aimed, the cue stick rested on the web of her hand, her fingers curled calmly, her lips pursed, and her eyelashes lowered.

His entire being suddenly became still, as quiet as a deep pool of water.

Then strike the ball.

The white ball crashes through the triangular formation of red balls, and the fifteen red balls explode into a dazzling fan shape.

A red ball rolled straight toward the bottom pocket, wobbled twice at the pocket opening, and then fell in.

The private room was silent for a full three seconds.

"It's a coincidence," someone whispered.

She walked around to the side of the table and tilted her head to take a look at the angle between the white ball and the red ball.

It's too far; I can't reach it while standing normally.

Instead of going around the stage, she turned to the side, bent her right leg slightly to support herself on the ground, raised her left leg and placed it on the edge of the stage, then leaned forward, almost lying on the stage.

The hem of the shirt slipped slightly out of the waistband, revealing a small section of the lower back. The skin glowed white under the warm light, and a faint shadow of a dimple could be seen on the side of the waist.

Every joint of her body was precisely positioned in the most reasonable place, without moving an inch.

Then strike the ball.

The white ball grazed the cushion and slid out, hitting the side of the red ball. The ball that everyone had condemned to be a sure thing rolled slowly across most of the table and silently slid into the middle pocket.

After that, every time she scored a goal, the sofa became quieter.

She bent down, raised her arm, and struck the club.

There are no unnecessary movements, no fancy footwork or flashy skills, just accuracy.

A kind of clean and precise precision that sends chills down your spine.

She walked around the table at a leisurely pace, her eyes slightly narrowed as she watched the game, as if she were hunting.

A girl in a cleaning uniform, with a round face and black-rimmed glasses, put the balls into the pocket one by one.

The posture wasn't exactly elegant, but it possessed a strange focus and ease.

A young man on the sofa leaned close to Zhou Huai'an's ear, his voice cracking.

"Where did you find this? Is he some retired player from somewhere...? Holy crap, he's incredibly accurate, ridiculously accurate!"

"How the hell should I know?"

Zhou Huai'an's hand, holding the wine glass, froze in mid-air.

"She was standing behind me like a ghost just now, but as soon as she touched me... damn."

Li Yaoyao was so engrossed that she forgot about her mission and that there were a group of people watching in the room.

All she remembered was what her father taught her: Don't worry about how good or bad the posture looks, getting in is the skill.

She didn't notice that the door to the private room opened when she scored her first goal.

[Host, host. 】

Just as Li Yaoyao was about to bend down and hit the last colored ball, she casually replied in her mind.

"Um?"

[Your mission objective.]

The system spoke in a "good luck to you" tone.

He's been watching you for a long time.

To be precise, he's practically stared your waist and butt until they're raw!

Li Yaoyao's finger slipped.

The cue stick struck the side of the cue ball, and the colored ball, which was sure to go in, bounced twice at the pocket before returning.

She straightened up and turned around stiffly.

Qi Yuge stood at the door, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other holding an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

His gaze traveled from her trembling calves, which were slightly shaking with nervousness, upwards, past her full thighs encased in trousers, and then past the soft flesh that had been exposed when she bent over earlier.

Finally, the light fell on her round face, which was turning red at a visible speed.

"continue."

He put the cigarette in his mouth, flicked the lighter with his thumb, the sound muffled by the flame.

"Why did you stop fighting?"

He took a step and walked towards Li Yaoyao.

The sound of leather shoes tapping on the marble floor was neither too fast nor too slow.

The young men in the private room automatically made way for them.

Li Yaoyao stood still, gripping the golf club, her back ramrod straight.

Qi Yuge walked up behind her and stopped.

"Not going to fight?"

His voice came down from above, lazy and a little hoarse.

Li Yaoyao opened her mouth: "Hit, hit..."

Just as she was about to bend down, his hand reached out from behind her.

His right hand covered her right hand that was gripping the stick.

My palms were dry and burning hot, and I curled my fingers together one by one.

His left hand was on the table, and his whole body pressed against him from behind.

Her back slammed into a solid chest, the impact leaving her mind blank.

"Don't shake."

He lowered his head, his chin almost resting on her shoulder.

His breath sprayed onto that small patch of sensitive skin behind her ear.

His arms encircled her from both sides, leaving her frozen in his embrace like a cat being held by the scruff of its neck.

His right hand guided her hand, slowly pulling the cue back.

"Aim."

He spoke softly, his voice right next to her ear, his breath deep and hot.

Her face was already flushed, and she was completely passively following his rhythm.

Use the momentum to push forward.

The white ball hit the side of the colored ball, which had just bounced back, spun around the pocket opening, and rolled cleanly into the bottom pocket.

Goal!