Ning Hanying stood under the dim yellow light, the rain tinging the ends of her hair with a thin mist. Panic mixed with trepidation filled her eyes, "Is Mr. Zhou always so high-profile?"
"Mm," Zhou Moxing said, "Yes."
Ning Hanying suddenly found herself choked with anger, suppressing her unhappy tone, "Hasn't Mr. Zhou seen my sister come down? Can't you restrain yourself a little?"
"Miss young lady Ning, may I take it, then, that you aren't opposed to my actions, but only afraid your sister will be hurt?"
Zhou Moxing's eyes brimmed with a deeper amusement as he gazed at her doubtfully flushed face, playfully repeating, "Is that what you mean, Miss young lady Ning?"
Ning Hanying did not.
