Ling Qingyu looked calm and composed, no longer excited after venting all her emotion on Yang Qingyue. Her fingers buttoned up a short sleeve black shirt, casual yet also formal.
Afterward, she put on a long emerald skirt, with slits on either side and sat down in front of the tall mirror, fixing her hair.
Yang Qingyue raised her brows at Ling Qingyu's behavior. "You're going to work early?"
"What's with your strange tone?" Ling Qingyu asked. "Is there something odd for me to go early?"
"Yes, from what I have known of you in the past weeks," said Yang Qingyue.
"When have you been observing me?" Ling Qingyu had a blank expression. She would never admit she had been indeed a little lazy, no longer workaholic. "Don't you understand, I'm training hard."
"Yes, indeed." Yang Qingyue responded perfunctorily.
"Come on, Sister Yang. Your words make me sad." Ling Qingyu pouted her lips.
