Yu Yanshen seemed to accept Yao Qing's explanation.
He said indifferently, "I don't often come here, so there probably isn't any water in the water dispenser."
Usually, housekeeping comes to clean regularly, and he rarely visits once a month.
"Oh..." Yao Qing coughed, "Then I won't drink, it's fine."
As her voice fell, she turned and walked away.
Yu Yanshen watched her escape-like movements, his eyes narrowing imperceptibly.
But in the end, he didn't call out to her.
Until—
Yao Qing stepped onto the barrier that she had just propped up under the small bookcase; the barrier was like a small step. She whispered a startled cry, her body leaning forward.
The night was unclear, and she hadn't noticed it.
Instinctively closing her eyes to brace for the pain, the scene suddenly shifted as she was quickly pulled into the arms of the man with a swift reaction.
His chest was hard, and the impact made Yao Qing's nose hurt with a hiss.
