Mr. Gong Yeyan, "..."
Ignoring the man's expression, Ming Ge thought for a moment, then tried a different term, "My little liver?"
Mr. Gong Yeyan, "..."
"Sweet Preserved Fruit?" she beamed, tossing them out one by one, "Little Witch sounds rather nice too, doesn't it? What do you think, Mr. Gong?"
From the driver's seat, eavesdropping without any shame, Zuo An, "..."
Miss Ming Ge and Boss do have a way of enjoying themselves.
So playful.
*
Outside the car.
After knocking on the window three times, Lei Jie stood by the car door.
The girl's voice, though not loud, carried a cheerful smile as it passed through the one-third open window.
She vaguely caught words like "Baby," "My little liver," "Sweet Preserved Fruit," "Little Witch"—all excessively doting, endearing, and sickeningly sweet terms.
She didn't hear the man's voice, but the mere fact that he didn't stop her from using such ambiguously affectionate terms in front of such a person was in itself a tacit indulgence.
