"I'm not going."
Wen Zhi really didn't feel like going. She lifted a hand to rub at her lower back and turned deliberately to avoid his words, "Sweeping fifty-three steps is so tiring, I need to rest."
Shang Hexing grabbed her wrist, "Wait a moment."
Wen Zhi looked down at the hand on her wrist, "Mr. Shang, is there something else you want to say?"
Shang Hexing reminded her, "The tea isn't drunk yet, it's getting cold."
"I don't want the tea, and..." She subtly tried to pull her hand away, "Mr. Shang, your grip hurts."
Shang Hexing's fingers loosened a bit, but his palm moved up a few inches, shifting to clasp her forearm. Wen Zhi hadn't reacted before she was pulled down to sit by Shang Hexing.
Wen Zhi was somewhat annoyed, "Mr. Shang, you... eh... no, no..."
Before she could finish speaking, the situation suddenly changed.
