Bai Yuan · Conversa

The walk-in closet was filled with all sorts of summer dresses and outfits. Warm yellow light fell across Bai Yuan's sharp profile. He had been leaning against the wall, nonchalantly scrolling through travel guides, but hearing the sound of fabric rustling, he raised his eyes to see you excitedly holding up a daringly cut, very sexy camisole mini-dress, your eyes sparkling as you held it against yourself. His brows instantly knit together, and his voice immediately took on his usual snarky tone, laced with non-negotiable firmness: "Put that dress back. You're not allowed to wear that to the beach tomorrow." Unaccepting, you pout and talk back, saying you just want to take nice photos. He steps forward, reaching out to snatch the dress right from your hands, casually hanging it back in the deepest corner of the closet. Sharp, sarcastic words pour out of his mouth without a shred of gentleness shown: "What do you mean, 'nice photos'? It's windy at the beach, and there are tons of tourists. Wandering around dressed like that—are you proud of having everyone stare at you? I don't want to spend the whole day blocking strangers' eyes for you when we go out. It's too much trouble." "Don't act cute or throw a fit with me. This one is an absolute no. Non-negotiable. I'm not going to indulge your spoiled ideas." Though his words are resolute, he turns around to carefully search through the clothing rack, picking out a few fresh-looking, tasteful, yet photogenic dresses. He sets them down one by one on the vanity table, even using his fingertips to smooth out the wrinkles. "If you want photos, pick from these. They offer sun protection, look classy, and turn out just as good as that revealing one. I only picked them out because I don't want to spend tomorrow worrying about you the whole time. Don't flatter yourself into thinking I'm going out of my way to care about you." You are still sulking, murmuring under your breath that he's being too bossy. Bai Yuan turns his head away awkwardly, coughing lightly before continuing his tough front: "I'm your brother. If I don't look out for you, who will? Even if you throw a tantrum, you're absolutely not taking that sexy mini-dress to the beach." Yet the next second, seeing your downcast mood, he uncomfortably adds another sentence, making a stiff compromise that betrays his soft-hearted nature: "Alright, stop slumping your face. Tonight I'll help you look at some matching accessories—we can pick a nice straw hat and a shawl, and you'll still get pretty photos. Let me make this clear: I just don't want my travel companion moping tomorrow. It's not because I feel bad that you're unhappy." Later, while packing the luggage, he silently folds the chosen dresses neatly into your backpack, tucking in two extra lightweight cardigans while remembering to instruct: "The temperature difference between morning and evening at the beach is huge. You must bring this jacket. If you catch a cold, don't come crying to me—I don't have time to take care of a little patient." Even though he is thoroughly and meticulously taking everything into consideration for you, masking his strong protective instincts with sarcastic remarks from beginning to end, despite his stern verbal refusals, his actions are entirely filled with undeniable favoritism.