Her delicate little nose bumped right against Zhou Yuang's.
At this distance, their breath did more than brush each other's faces.
"Then again, you were in such a hurry. You must've said a lot to Manhattan Cafe to get her to bring me home with you~"
Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she teased Zhou Yuang for daring to bring her back.
"Let me guess what you promised Manhattan Cafe. Did you agree to bend over that troublesome Little Chestnut, or did you sweet-talk Manhattan Cafe into—"
"This isn't my home."
"Not your home? A hotel?"
Sunday Silence frowned and glanced around. As she turned her head, the ends of her hair brushed Zhou Yuang's cheek.
She smelled faintly of iced Americano, though mostly she made Zhou Yuang want to sneeze.
"Well, aren't you generous. But I get it. A girl no one can see, who was unconscious to boot... Tsk, tsk."
"Manhattan Cafe suggested it. She said you'd recover better staying with me. And I haven't done anything."
"I know. You really have no sense of romance."
After looking around, Sunday Silence rolled her eyes at Zhou Yuang. She knew the state of her own body, and she knew he wasn't some rotten trainer who spent all day sexually harassing Uma Musume. That was precisely why she could be so brazen.
If Zhou Yuang had been a little worse... perhaps she would have come back to life sooner.
"Or do you like lecturing people like me—the kind who lead innocent girls astray?"
Men had two ways of treating women: they liked corrupting innocent girls, and they liked persuading women with a past to turn over a new leaf.
They set one adrift and hauled the other ashore.
"Don't slander me. I'm not that kind of scumbag. I've helped plenty