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Ming Zhao looked at him naturally, her face slightly damp from the serum she had just applied, gleaming with a hint of shimmer. Her lips curved into a small smile.
Zhou Tingyun stood in front of her, his expression indifferent.
Shaving for her boyfriend?
If she could, she wouldn’t even want to walk. After seeing a video of a Dongbei villa last time, where a young heiress sat in a wheelchair, pushed by a butler, she had asked him to get one for her too.
He refused, fearing that her lifestyle would lead to muscle atrophy.
“Girls grow up and leave the nest. Don’t come crying to your brother after you’ve exhausted yourself,” Zhou Tingyun said indifferently.
“How does shaving become exhausting?!” Ming Zhao retorted, unconvinced.
“Men usually shave in the morning before going out. Are you sure you want to get up at seven every day to shave for him?”
Hmm…? Seven o’clock?
She suddenly hesitated.
But she stubbornly insisted, “If I like him, I’d definitely be willing.”
Zhou Tingyun’s eyes were deep, his tone slightly cold.
“If he agrees to let you do that, you should break up with him sooner rather than later.”
The bathroom door closed.
Ming Zhao: “?”
See? Lin Zhiwei is unreliable. She said that jealous men are the scariest.
She said there would be neck-grabbing and forced kisses!
Ever since she learned about Ming Zhao’s hasty retreat from Zhou Tingyun’s lap, Lin Zhiwei had been teasing her relentlessly.
She laughed at her for being all bark and no bite, calling her a coward. At this rate, Lin Zhiwei said, Ming Zhao would still be at this stage while Zhou Tingyun already had children.
Lin Zhiwei gave her a series of suggestions, finally concluding with,
“If all else fails, just drug him. Cook the rice before the wedding. Your brother is such a responsible person; he’ll definitely take responsibility for you.”
What kind of nonsense is that?
She’s such a beautiful and charming woman; does she need to drug someone to get a man?
What an insult!
It made her so angry she furiously used Zhou Tingyun’s credit card!
…
When Zhou Tingyun came out of the shower, he saw Ming Zhao with a sullen face, staring at him resentfully.
He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.
“Sit…down…properly.”
She was angry, and very seriously so.
Glancing at the razor in her hand, and adopting the attitude of letting a child play if they want to, the man pulled out a chair and sat down steadily, his legs spread casually.
Ming Zhao squeezed herself into the space between his legs, still fuming.
Seeing her angry expression, Zhou Tingyun asked, “Are you planning to shave or kill someone?”
Ming Zhao ignored him, angrily grabbing his chin and lifting it.
The emerging stubble was a bit prickly.
She frowned, glaring at him again. “You really have no taste in anything!”
“You have taste,” his voice was calm and low. “If you had taste, would you go find a boyfriend who makes you shave for him early in the morning?”
“I haven’t found one yet!”
He glanced at her and didn’t argue further.
Soft fingertips rubbed against his face, the cool foam bubbling up, and soon the subtle buzz of the razor filled the air.
Ming Zhao: “Why are you closing your eyes? Don’t you trust me?”
“I think you should allow your first test subject to maintain a healthy skepticism about your technique,” he replied.
“The way you speak can easily affect my mood, indirectly impacting my performance, and then your face will have scratches that undermine your composed demeanor.”
Zhou Tingyun spoke in a calm voice. “It’s fine; I won’t mind anything you leave on me, my dear sister.”
Ming Zhao almost fumbled.
She had to admit that her thoughts were a bit dirty, like a yellow dragon fruit.
Pulling her attention back, she hadn’t been focused on shaving for long before she started to play around, smearing the foam all over his face.
Zhou Tingyun didn’t rush her; on one hand, he was always accustomed to indulging her.
On the other hand…
He really missed her.
He missed her voice, he missed her being around, making a ruckus.
It wasn’t just that Zhou Tingyun occupied a large part of Ming Zhao’s life. Since Ming Zhao was born, he hadn’t been separated from her for this long.
He was like a parent watching a little frog travel the world, not wanting to interrupt her as she experienced more wonders, but not receiving a single postcard from her.
However, he didn’t know that the little frog was no longer the simple and adorable sister he remembered.
“Ah!”
Ming Zhao suddenly exclaimed.
Zhou Tingyun immediately opened his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“…”
He averted his gaze, preparing to get up, but she stopped him.
“Where are you going? Hurry up and help me wipe this off!”
Ming Zhao blocked him, holding the razor in one hand and a handful of foam in the other, her expression urgent.
The bath towel, wrapped like a halter top, outlined a full and beautiful curve. A large patch of shaving foam had smeared across her delicate collarbone.
The man’s eyes darkened slightly.
“Move aside,” his voice took on a slightly cool tone. “I’ll get a towel to help you.”
Ming Zhao blinked and obediently moved to the side.
Taking a towel, Zhou Tingyun walked in front of her.
He lowered his head slightly, carefully wiping the shaving cream from her collarbone. His peripheral vision caught the undeniable whiteness of her skin, like a spilled carton of milk, dominating his sight.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and the hand holding the towel tensed slightly.
Ming Zhao’s ears felt warm.
Even though he maintained a distance, his warm breath still caressed her skin, like a feather brushing lightly.
She almost couldn’t help but step back, but he held her shoulders, preventing her movement.
“Don’t move.”
So hot, she thought silently.
The man quickly released her, saying coldly, “I told you to put on your clothes, and you ignored me. Now you’re not worried about getting dirty?”
Ming Zhao: “What’s dirty about foam?”
He washed the towel clean and wiped her down again.
Then, after cleaning himself, he glanced at her.
“Just foam?” he asked, raising a brow.
Ming Zhao smiled, her voice clear and bright. “I don’t mind your beard.”
“First, thank you for not being bothered by me,” Zhou Tingyun said. “Second, have you forgotten that you’re prone to allergies?”
The story of Ming Zhao’s allergies began when she was eight years old, during a haircut.
During the haircut, small pieces of hair fell into her clothes and weren’t cleaned up promptly.
Little Ming Zhao felt itchy and unconsciously scratched herself, leaving large patches of red marks on her body, a sight that was alarming.
Zhou Tingyun had just arrived home and was about to look for his sister when he saw the marks on her neck and arms. He was immediately angry and worried.
He quickly examined Ming Zhao and found a pile of hair, quickly cleaning it up. He searched high and low for ointment and carefully applied it, finally unable to help but lightly spank her hands a few times.
He hadn’t really used much force, but the fragile Ming Zhao immediately burst into tears, crying her heart out, as if the final episode of *Balala the Fairies* was about to air.
Then she didn’t talk to Zhou Tingyun for several days.
She even went so far as to confront him when he came to pick her up from school, hands on her hips, glaring at him. She declared that she didn’t have such a malicious and fierce brother and swore to sever their sibling relationship.
Zhou Tingyun was so angry he almost laughed. Cut ties as siblings?
Where did she learn such nonsensical phrases?
Now, looking at the enlarged version of Ming Zhao in front of him, he noticed the skin on her collarbone was starting to turn red. His brows furrowed deeper.
Seeing her instinctively reach to scratch, he quickly grabbed her wrist.
“When will you let me worry less?” he said, his voice cold and reprimanding, pressing his fingertip against the irritated skin. “You forget the pain after eating, don’t you?”
Ming Zhao widened her eyes in disbelief. “Zhou Tingyun, are you annoyed with me right now?”
“…”