While we were chatting, Chen approached with tea in hand, crouched down, placed the tea on the coffee table, then stood up at the side.
Seeing that Chen wasn't making any further move, I scolded loudly, "What are you staring at, waiting for us to pour our own tea?"
It seemed as though Chen had just realized her duty and quickly crouched down again to pour the tea. Once she was finished, she handed it to Jing An, "Mr. Jing, please have some tea."
Jing An didn't hurry to take it, instead sizing Chen up and down. Because Jing An did not take the tea right away, I started to feel anxious, and even Chen's arms were trembling slightly.
Finally, Jing An extinguished his cigarette butt, took the teacup from Chen, and casually touched the back of her hand, which made me shudder with discomfort.
Jing An took a light sip of the tea, then frowned and poured it into the saucer, "No good, it's cold."
