"Dear Miss Luojia."
An Su said tenderly.
"...Every time you call me that," Miss Luoja Fast sighed slightly, turning her face away, unwilling to look at that annoying face, and sighed again,
"it's never for anything good."
From her years of interactions with An Su, every time he starts with 'Dear Miss Luojia,' it's never with good intentions.
She thought of yesterday's events, recalled all kinds of past occurrences, and grew even more angry.
But this anger was not fury; it was mixed with a bit of embarrassment. Her body felt slightly feverish, and her earlobes took on the color of the evening sky; Miss Luojia knew her cheeks must be very red, like the evening glow staining her cheeks, her pure white eyes veiled with a thick mist of moisture.
That's why Miss Luojia turned her face away; she didn't want An Su to see her cheeks at this moment.
'So will you take care of me or not? I have the courage to say this now, in twenty minutes I won't.'
