"Are you quite taken with this little one called Schopenhauer?" Weir reclined on the sofa, her small feet propped up on the coffee table, munching on a cookie with crumbs falling from the corner of her mouth. With a simple wave of her hand, the crumbs disappeared.
"Well, he's a decent talent. If groomed appropriately, he could serve as my assistant," said Perfikot without hiding her intention, also sitting casually on the sofa.
Her sitting posture was relatively more graceful, and her rapidly developing body over the past few years had seen her height increase significantly. Now she could be described as a young maiden standing gracefully, her long legs elegantly crossed beneath her long skirt, exuding a pleasant youthful vibe.
