From the start, Professor Zhou Mo’s almond-colored eyes did not leave the table. Vintage books, calligraphy pens, and antique objects were spread across the table. Aristocratic families really do enjoy filling their glass cabinet’s with precious antiquities- looking like it came from a popular magazine.
Professor Zhou’s voice has always been indifferent, but it was enough for flowers to blossom. The dessert, for Professor Zhou, was on a small porcelain plate. Happily walking towards him, Song An Yi was satisfied with this week’s teapot and cups. The atmosphere was very relaxing, and it was a good time to bake. Based on Professor Zhou being the son of her mother’s calligraphy teacher, it was a good thing to not be stingy and share.
“Professor Zhou, try this dessert. Rest assured, it isn’t too sweet!”
Song An Yi also poured herself a cup of tea, and then she looked around the study. The window’s frame was made out of red wood. Beside it, was a jade table and also a jade chair- of course they had to match. It was a good spot for relaxing; it was sunny, and had the best lighting which create a good reading environment. But she was still contemplating, was the jade chair more comfortable than the sofa?
She moved her derriere and frowned for a few seconds.
“Cushion is in the cupboard.”
Zhou Mo’s slender jade hand turned a page in an ancient book, elegantly moving his lips into a thin line; a low, moist voice escaped his throat which reminded her of early spring.
Professor Zhou, if he wasn’t a professor, could definitely sell his face for a living.
Song An Yi was familiar with the road to the cupboard. Taking out a circular cushion, it was beautifully crafted, the weaving technique was impeccable and very unique. This type of cushion reminded her of the ones the Empress or the concubines used in Ancient China.
“Professor Zhou, I brought the cushion. Is it this one?”
Zhou Mo raised a slender eyebrow as his gaze swept across the cushion Song An Yi pointed to. His tone, soft and light: “Do you think that’s the cushion for sitting here?”
This cushion, that was an antique, made her devastated! Professor Zhou can take out the ancient books and read them like a magazine, but she can’t use an antique cushion for her derriere. Song An Yi sighed, returning the cushion back to its original place, and went back to sit on the uncomfortable chair.
She looked reluctantly at Professor Zhou who did not seem to care for her.
This man showed her what the word “ingratitude” meant. After cleaning, she would soak a pot of tea, then make homemade snacks, and she would share the food with Professor Zhou. Naturally, he accepted and never made a comment or showed his displeasure.
She can’t believed that an employer like him could exist. It is understandable that Professor Zhou is a bit cold, but he is actually a warm man. Otherwise, he would snap at her for being noisy and censure her for preparing the afternoon tea. Not even accommodating her a soft cushion, he was nice? She must’ve been blind when she thought he could show compassion.
Song An Yi gently sipped the fragrant herbal tea. Today’s new combination of tea can relax a person’s mind. It was really good tea. Her face let out a smile.
Assessing the situation, was Professor Zhou really apathetic? What if he acted cold, but his heart was warm? Ah, it’s hard to determine his character. Professor Zhou was like a thermometer. The temperature can turn hot or cold- just like his attitude. At the same time, he was also sensible and pragmatic. His lungs were probably filled with dust from breathing in too much of the antiquities.
Song An Yi thought that the people, regardless of whether they’re from, could talk about any topic and quickly become friends. But that sort of friendship would fade the next day.
However, there were still some exceptions. Her smile was very real, along with her attitude, and she was very easy to see through. So he shouldn’t be so paranoid around her.
Zhou Mo did not have to look up to know that the room was filled with Miss Song’s lively energy; he was used to her enthusiasm three times a day. But at this moment, he as the master of loneliness, will admit that it was nice to have people around- sometimes.
“Professor Zhou, does the snack taste delicious?”
Professor Zhou took a third bite of the cake; Song An Yi was hoping to get some blandishments.
But Zhou Mo did not like her wish. Looking at the ancient book in his hands, yet he still took another bite.
Song An Yi smiled. Her eyes fell on Professor Zhou’s slender fingers that held the small spoon. This could be taken as a positive response that Professor Zhou enjoyed today’s snack, right?
Professor Zhou’s implicit “sure”, made Song An Yi very happy. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll try making longan rice cakes for Professor Zhou,’ Song An Yi was making a list of the ingredients needed and recalled the directions in her head.
Song An Yi was shocked when Professor Zhou abruptly stood up.
Professor Zhou was very tall: towering over her with a height of six feet and two inches. His clean white shirt did not have any creases and gave off a sharp, professional aura. He went to his desk, and pulled the drawer, taking out a bag made of kraft paper. The bag was handed to her.