Although the excess cream had been wiped away, the plain collared linen T-shirt she was wearing underneath was clearly no longer wearable. After dealing with it, her brother walked to the corner wardrobe and picked out the softest white shirt from the several spare garments hanging there.
"Change into this," he said, his voice steady and without any ripple. Standing, his gaze dropped, unintentionally sweeping over her collar—the small stretch of fair, delicate collarbone exposed, and the small hollow of her neck on the side.
That was a zone that could spark infinite reverie.
Her brother's pupils suddenly deepened a few shades. An involuntary surge of heat pooled in his lower abdomen, but he quickly averted his gaze with self-control and said to her, "I'll have someone bring clean clothes in a while."
Cheng Buxi took the shirt that was steeped in his scent. First she was stunned, then she looked at the shirt, then at her brother. The corners of her pouted lips gradually relaxed.
Fine.
She didn't say anything else. Clutching the shirt, with a resigned air, she rose from the sofa somewhat awkwardly, scuttled into the restroom in the corner, and gently closed the door.
After a long while, the restroom door cracked open, and her soft, delicate voice came out: "Bro... I'm done changing."
"Mm," Lu Tingzhou didn't look up, his pen flowing smoothly as he signed documents. "Come out."
Somehow, he had already put on a pair of silver-rimmed glasses. The extremely cinched black suit vest, broad shoulders—he sat there, elegant and rogue, cool and stern.
Cheng Buxi pushed the door open and came out. She stood by the door somewhat awkwardly, cheeks flushed, hands hanging down, her fingers unconsciously tugging at the hem of the oversized shirt. She didn't know where to look, finally settling her gaze on the carpet.
Her brother's shirt still had crisp creases from ironing, the fabric stiff. His scent wafted into her nose in wisps, very pleasant. The huge sleeves hung emptily, completely covering her arms.
This shirt was far too big for her. The shoulder seams drooped down a whole section; she had to roll up the sleeves three or four times just to barely reveal her wrists. The hem was even longer, reaching down to her butt, swaying like an ill-fitting dress.
This look... was like a child who had stolen an adult's clothes.
She stood there in embarrassment, not daring to look at him, only feeling the heat on her face rising steadily.
The air was silent for a few seconds.
Lu Tingzhou's gaze fell on the particularly frail figure wrapped in the oversized clothes at the door. The fingers holding his pen paused slightly, the pen tip hovering over the page for a few seconds.
That gaze was deep, carrying an examination that no one could read, as if for the first time he so clearly realized what a slender, soft existence was wrapped under this oversized garment.
The office's climate control system seemed to have failed at that moment. An indescribable heat silently crept up to his Adam's apple.
The next second, "Go sit back down," he said, his voice clear and restrained.
"Oh..." Cheng Buxi immediately responded, as if given an order. The awkwardness on her face dissipated a bit, and she quickly ran back to sit on the sofa.
Looking at the half-eaten afternoon tea, she had no time to regret. She remembered that there were still a few candies in her bag, originally prepared for Ning Ci, so she unwrapped one and put it in her mouth.
Then she obediently curled up on the sofa, waiting for the rescue of clean clothes.
Her brother's gaze swept over the small figure quietly huddled on the sofa. She was hugging her knees, chin resting on them, the wide shirt sleeves slipping down to cover the backs of her hands, only the tips of her fingers showing.
As if sensing his gaze, she looked up and gave him a shallow smile—a bit embarrassed but also carrying a hint of dependence.
Lu Tingzhou's hand stiffened.
He forced himself to look away from her, lowering his head to look at the documents in his hand, but the numbers were like fish in water, slipping away uncaught.
After a long time, he conceded defeat.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Beijing, a street basketball court.
Just past five o'clock, the sky was noticeably darker. The setting sun was like a spilled bucket of orange-red paint, dyeing the entire skyline fiery red.
The residential areas nearby were packed, buildings squeezed together like pigeon coops, with too many people. The small basketball court had tacitly become a contested territory for several groups.
Ning Ci received a call from his childhood friend Wei Qisi, asking for help. He said that the other group had been hogging the court and wouldn't let anyone else play. With a surge of chivalrous spirit, they wanted to teach them a lesson, but ended up getting beaten into small fries themselves.
In the days since returning from Niujie, Ning Ci hadn't been idle. First, he went to South City to visit his maternal grandparents, and during that time, he also went to Shencheng to be a groomsman.
Wearing the groomsman attire, he drove the local girls dizzy, and his WeChat was hit up so many times. After rejecting the first, there were still thirty or forty more. He simply set the sneak photo of Cheng Buxi he had taken that day as his wallpaper and told everyone, "Sorry, I'm getting married next year." After enjoying the forty-first heartbroken figure walking away, he left satisfied.
When he got the summons from his childhood friend, he came over and, in a few moves, took down the arrogant group on the other side.
After finishing, he sat back in his car, tore open an Alpine lollipop he had just bought at a convenience store by the roadside, and was about to shove it in his mouth when he looked down at the wrapper. Oh wow, it was a collaboration with Eggboy Party.
Eggboy Party? That little ancestor had been clamoring to play this game recently, hadn't she? He had been too busy to remember. Alright, he might as well download it too.
He pulled out his phone to download the game while carelessly putting the lollipop in his mouth.
He really liked eating candy. Over time, Cheng Buxi had noticed that, and she would occasionally put a few in her bag, all milk-flavored.
Seeing him sit into an old, hard second-hand Mercedes, his friends gathered around curiously. "I say, Master Ning, where's your Bugatti?" someone asked curiously.
Han Xiao tapped the car's engine hood as he spoke. The indescribably dull metallic sound reached their ears—damn, it couldn't be any older.
"Where's your GTR? Your Lamborghini Gallardo?"
"Good grief, driving this thing, I thought you'd gone bankrupt."
You Shun was displeased: "Shut up, okay? What's wrong with this car? Isn't it pretty cool—a big Mercedes?"
Han Xiao was about to say that this car was decades old, where's the cool? Wei Qisi, after sending his girlfriend back to sit in the BBA, came charging over and was also shocked:
"Is this... crazy? Driving such an old man's car? Damn, a Tiger Head Benz! Where did you get it?"
"Ning Er, are you out of your mind? Why did you suddenly start driving this car?"
Ning Ci didn't bother to answer him. He was already annoyed. After playing basketball, he was drenched in sweat and hadn't even enjoyed it. The opponents were as weak as grandpas and grandmas dancing in the square. Who knows how they ended up being called 'comparable to Jordan' and 'street basketball king' by them?
Can people stop spreading false information? And just now, he hadn't even touched the opposing small forward—that guy fell on his own. Seriously, can those who fake fouls go away?
Through the short, old window of the Tiger Head Benz, he half-raised his eyes.