He secures the robe with a beautiful bow.
“Come on.” Han Qilu beckons her to follow him at the sofa. He retrieves a glass of red wine before sitting. He looks up and sees An Chuxia standing vigilantly. “Well, are yougoing to sit or keep on standing?”
Her mouth twitches as she listens to him. She decides to sit on a stool across from him. “What do you want to say?”
Sipping a mouthful of wine, Han Qilu deliberately asks her, “What did you see?”
In all honesty, she saw everything, albeit a moment. But it was
that kind of shock she probably would never forget. Wow! I hope he won’t ask how long he is!? There’s an old wives’ tale told to children: You shouldn’t see what is private. Otherwise your buttocks and eyes will get sores.
Her eyes moves erratically as she speaks. “Tomorrow’s weather is supposed to be good… really pleasant!”
He knows An Chuxia is deliberately trying to change topics, but did she have to segue so badly? He glares at her what asking condescendingly, “Xiao mei, did you see it?”
Puff! “Hahahaha!!!” She suddenly chokes on her own saliva. Her throat is on fire and is
is uncomfortable. After a little while, she gets to the point.
Han Qilu’s hand shoots up and touches his chin. He shoots her a contemptuous look. “I don’t recall calling you to look at my body, so why did you? I asked you… .”
“Don’t ask again!” She takes advantage by interrupting his words. “I saw what I have seen. That ugly thing… I didn’t see anything great about it!”
So… ugly thing? Did she despise him?
“You just got me wrong. I just wanted to ask you if you wanna know what was written on that letter,” he says, looking at
looking at An Chuxia, who is slightly flushed.
An Chuxia’s heartbeat gradually returns to normal. He squints his eyes and moves his lips. “Do you want me to tell you… or not?”
She can tell he’s getting angry. Angry about what? Because she interrupted him tonight to ask about this question?
Han Qilu rarely displays his quiet temperament. He softly says, “I like you.”
She clenches her fist, and stares at his eyes quickly. However, Han Qilu just chuckles. “Don’t misunderstand. It’s impossible for the young master to like a hard working and deep person like you. I mean, An Chenchuan, he said he he said he likes you.”
The night wind blows through the open windows and An Chuxia’s hair floats. Against the light, her white skin made her look like she’s made of porcelain.
“Is that a joke?” He can’t even tell her the truth! What a mess.
We might try to talk.
She recalls her conversation with him vividly. Gee, what’s happening to her?
“So, do you hate him? An Chenchuan.” His deep voice easily fills with power. An Chuxia raises her head slightly and looks at Han Qilu.
Do I hate An Chenchuan? Since her father is currently his, should she hate him for that reason?