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Zhou Tingyun quickly extinguished the cigar and activated the fresh air system.
“Why did you suddenly come here?”
“When did you start smoking?” Ming Zhao asked simultaneously.
Although the action was attractive, she still disliked the change in him.
The man remained silent for a moment. Before he could speak, the young miss had already issued a stern command.
“Quit now,” she said, glaring at him angrily.
Where did this angry little bird, chubby pufferfish, and angry piglet come from?
After a pause, he couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Okay.”
The girl immediately reached out; her soft palm open.
She said fiercely, “And the rest? Hand them over now!”
Zhou Tingyun opened a drawer and placed a whole box in her hand.
“Is that enough, little teacher?”
Ming Zhao’s ears flushed at the nickname; she coughed lightly.
“That’s more like it, Zhou classmate.”
“Don’t secretly buy any more; I’ll check your spending records.”
“So strict. What if I ask my secretary to buy them for me?”
“Zhou Tingyun!”
The man skillfully soothed her anger. “Just a hypothetical situation.”
Ming Zhao didn’t believe him: “What if I find out you’re lying to me?”
“Then what?”
“Then I’ll go to a bar and drink.”
Meeting his calm gaze, Ming Zhao felt intimidated but still tried to hold her ground. “Zhou Tingyun, you can’t be so hypocritical.”
The man simply said, “You can act up, but it’s best if I don’t find out.”
A threat, a blatant threat.
Ming Zhao was furious.
She fiercely stomped her light brown Mary Janes on his polished leather shoes.
“If you’re tired, sit down and rest for a while,” Zhou Tingyun said, reaching out to adjust her scarf and smooth her slightly disheveled hair.
Ming Zhao’s lips were pressed into a straight line as she glared at him.
He patted her clothes. “You don’t believe me, yet you’re the one getting angry.”
“I don’t want to bring up the past,” Ming Zhao said, clearly unhappy. “You should rest for a while; you have a meeting later.”
She felt like such a caring and considerate younger sister, even showing concern while angry.
However—
“We can bring up the past,” he said. “Let me hear it.”
Well, then she wouldn’t hold back.
“Aunt Lin said that when you were little, you wouldn’t let go of me, and even when she asked you to put me down, you said you could hold your sister forever.”
Ming Zhao deliberately changed the subject, “It’s clear you didn’t keep your promise; therefore, your credibility is questionable.”
Zhou Tingyun replied calmly, “Promises also depend on the circumstances. Do you expect me to hold you while we eat when I’m half buried in the ground?”
Ming Zhao didn’t like the way he put it; her face crumpled. “You’re not even thirty yet!”
“Almost,” he said calmly.
She decided to forgo politeness and propriety. Pushing him back against the chair, Ming Zhao sat down on his lap.
“Then take advantage of this time and hug me more.”
Zhou Tingyun: “?”
The girl wrapped her arms tightly around him, her body sending a clear signal that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Softly nestled against his thigh, she created a gentle curve, then restlessly rubbed against him.
He sighed helplessly, “If you’re going to sit, sit properly. Don’t fidget.”
Ming Zhao settled comfortably in his arms, finding a comfortable position.
“Okay, you can sleep for fifteen more minutes now. You’re so lucky to have such a cute and beautiful pillow.”
She grabbed his hand and placed it on her waist. “Close your eyes.”
Ming Zhao completed this series of actions smoothly, but her fingertips were slightly tense, and her loose hair covered her flushed ears.
However, in Zhou Tingyun’s eyes, his sister was still the clingy little girl who depended on him.
She was so afraid of separation that she always sought the same intimacy and sense of security she had felt as a child.
Zhou Tingyun had always understood her actions this way.
But…
The man lowered his gaze to her lips, wondering whether he should point something out.
Girls this age had their own fashion sense; he wasn’t sure if the lipstick smudge was considered one of them.
“Huh? Where—” The girl raised her hand to wipe, but missed the spot and smeared more lipstick.
Zhou Tingyun caught her wrist, stopping her from further ‘painting’ her face.
“Where’s your mirror?”
“I forgot to bring it.” She leaned her face closer. “Help me fix it.”
Her fair and delicate cheek revealed fine vellus hair, her tea-brown eyes were bright and clear, framed by long, curled lashes.
The lipstick was smudged at the edges of her full lips, blurring outward—
As if she had just been kissed passionately.
“Hurry, hurry,” she urged.
Her light, moist breath mingled with the soft patter of rain from outside the window.
Zhou Tingyun grabbed a wet wipe and carefully cleaned his fingers.
Then, he lifted his hand to cradle her face.
His fingertips gently rubbed over the soft pink, tracing her lip line, wiping it clean bit by bit.
Ming Zhao had expected him to use the wet wipe to help her, but she didn’t anticipate this.
Her eyes were bright and clear as she blinked, “Do you think this color looks good?”
The man’s fingertips lingered for a moment—intentionally or not—before he released her.
“It looks good.”
—