He was six-one to my five-five, so the dress on him was like an adult squeezed into a child's clothes—tight, short, and utterly out of place. I stifled a laugh, looking at the man leaning unsteadily against the wall. "Gu Zhizhou, why are you wearing my clothes? Where are yours?"
He blinked his eyes open, glanced at me, and said, "Fell in the water. They’re soaked. Can’t wear them."
I frowned. How
















