Shen Yuxing spoke, his voice soft and delicate. "Brother Huaixiao is right."
The corners of Liu Wanying's mouth had barely lifted before they froze.
Shen Yuxing continued earnestly, "Auntie also said earlier that she could cover all my school expenses in Capital City, as long as I agreed to do one thing for her."
He raised his eyes, those seemingly clear, harmless eyes looking straight at Liu Wanying.
At that moment, everyone in the restaurant had the same illusion-a tail seemed to be swaying leisurely behind this skinny little mountain boy.
"Auntie, what was it you wanted me to agree to again? I've kind of forgotten. I only remember it seemed to have something to do with Brother Xiao Xun..."
The restaurant was so quiet that they could hear the squeak of the plump owner pressing his ear against the kitchen door.
A visible crack appeared in the gentle, gracious mask Liu Wanying had carefully maintained for seventeen years, stretching from the corner of her eye all the way to the corner of her mouth.
She staggered back two steps. Her handkerchief slipped from her fingers and fluttered down onto the grease-covered floor tiles.
"You-you're all ganging up on me!" At last, her tears were no longer forced. They fell in earnest, smearing her eyeliner and streaking her foundation.
Duan Qizhao, who had been sleeping like the dead with his head on the table, was jolted awake by her wail.
He lifted his blue-haired head from his folded arms, his eyes still shut and his brows tightly knitted, and muttered impatiently.
"Who's that? Wailing at a funeral?"
The director lunged over at lightning speed and clapped a hand over his mouth.
Duan Qizhao made muffled noises behind her hand. His eyes finally opened a slit, and through his haze, he