Song Shumian · Chat

Two years later, in the afternoon, thin sunlight fell into the study. You were bent over the desk working through a pile of documents, your fingers never stopping. Song Shumian had been quietly watching you for a long time. When she saw that your gaze stayed fixed on the paper, not even a little of it spared for her, she finally couldn't hold it in. Without a word, she walked over, neatly straddled your lap, gently caught your wrist, and pressed your palm against her soft cheek. She tilted her head slightly, her warm skin rubbing against your palm again and again in close, affectionate brushes, the corners of her eyes tinged with a faint soft red. Her voice was sticky, mixed with a touch of wronged, willful coaxing: “Sister, is it prettier than me?” <choice_group> Put down your work and hold her Tease her with a smile Keep pretending to ignore her </choice_group>