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He was just lucky she didn’t give him her staring-at-a-worm look.
She wasn’t the only one who showed no special desire for him, but she was the first to regard him as though she were looking at a worm. She seemed to think she hid the feeling well, but the disdain was clear on her face.
“Perhaps,” Gaoshun ventured now, “I might ask you to stop regarding Master Jinshi in the same manner in which you might look at a worm.” Damn. They noticed.
Maomao tried, indirectly of course, to communicate to Jinshi that he could not help and was not wanted here, but he still stopped by to smile at her at every opportunity with the tenacity of a ghost that was haunting her.
And so Maomao ended up looking at Jinshi like some kind of bug crawling along the ground. She sincerely couldn’t help it.
She would have to ask Gaoshun to make certain that from now on, when Jinshi visited her, it was only after he had been up to something indecent.
Maomao looked at Jinshi and realized the blood had drained from his face. His hand, clutching a teacup, was shaking. Maybe he’s feeling cold. Maomao turned to heap a few more pieces of charcoal on the brazier and fanned the flames gently. “He seemed entirely pleased,” she reported. “It makes me feel all the hard work I did for him was worth it.” And now I’ll have to work hard to find more new customers. Maomao clenched her fist to demonstrate her private determination. From behind her, she heard the sound of a teacup shattering. “Whatever are you doing?” she asked. Bits of ceramic were
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This will never not be funny LMAO
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