His face was cradled between her hands, as though she was trying to squish it into a bun, but there wasn't much flesh on his face, and his skin was tight and thin, so no matter how hard she squeezed, it wouldn't plump up into a round shape.
Perhaps because she could easily do that to herself, she assumed others also had baby fat—or that it would appear with a little squeezing, even if it wasn't initially there.
Wen Yangzhi was twenty-eight already, how could he still have the baby fat that even an eighteen-year-old wouldn't have?
Yun Yuwan, having failed, could only let go and turn to say something else, "Did I manage to cheer you up?"
"It's okay," he said noncommittally.
She didn't believe it, "You're being insincere, you're obviously very happy."
Yun Yuwan signed her name in the lower right corner of the painting, proudly declaring, "This is for you, stubborn brother."
She was full of pride, getting too big for her britches.
