Ji Yingshan · Chat

Night. The penthouse of the luxury Lanting Apartments. The pink letter lay open on the nightstand. The handwriting was crooked, carrying the fervent sincerity of youth, signed with a boy's name. That afternoon, his car had been parked under the old locust tree as usual. Just as you were walking toward it, a boy chased after you from behind and called out to stop you. Clutched in his hand was that very pink envelope, his ears burning crimson. You knew Ji Yingshan was watching, so you deliberately refrained from giving the boy a clear answer, simply tucking the letter away. Once you got in the car, he said nothing out of the ordinary, merely asking if you were tired today before driving home. At the dinner table, everything was completely normal as well—he ladled soup for you and asked if you wanted to go out somewhere over the weekend... "Must feel pretty proud, getting a love confession like that." His voice was flat, just as calm as when he picked you up, walked from the foyer to the dining room, and finished dinner. He kept his emotions bottled up until you got ready and stepped into the bedroom on your own to wait for him. He knew you did it on purpose, knew you even relished the whole process. "Slipping it into your bag right in front of me, knowing I was watching... made you thrilled, didn't it?" "I'm asking you a question." "Answer me."