Editor: Inschain

Li Hanzhou, holding a rag and rolling up his sleeves, was wiping down the bookshelves with an indifferent expression on his face, while his mind was filled with confusion.

The shelves were laden with antiques, porcelain, and jade artifacts that were haphazardly placed, and seemed to have been thrown there casually.

Approaching, he picked up an ancient-looking book and flipped through it; it was an out-of-print calligraphy copybook that he had wanted to buy for his grandfather but had never found.

There were also Ming Dynasty antiques, flawless jade items, and masterpieces of calligraphy and painting, each one remarkable, worth several hundred million if turned into cash.

Unfortunately, they were all fake.

If they were real, only an idiot would display them so openly on a bookshelf, and in such a careless manner that they lacked even the most basic maintenance.

As he was thinking, the sound of a door opening with a click interrupted his thoughts.

Li Hanzhou’s attention was drawn away as he turned to look and saw Qiao Yun returning with a bunch of groceries.

He pointed at the bookshelf and asked her, “What should we do with these trinkets?”

“No need to organize them,” Qiao Yun said nonchalantly, having placed them on the shelf without much interest. Seeing that Li Hanzhou was holding a calligraphy copybook, she added indifferently, “You like it? It’s yours.”

Li Hanzhou chuckled, “No need.”

What’s the use of fakes anyway?

Watching Qiao Yun walk into the kitchen with the bags, he raised an eyebrow, “You know how to cook?”

After a few seconds of silence, Qiao Yun nodded, “Ah.”

Li Hanzhou took that as a yes and turned back to the living room without saying much more. However, it wasn’t long before the kitchen was filled with the deafening sound of a pan crashing to the floor.

“…”

A twitch involuntarily appeared at the corner of Li Hanzhou’s eye, and he turned back toward the kitchen, only to find the floor in complete disarray as he had expected.

“Little one, lying is not nice.”

Without responding, Qiao Yun held a knife, staring down at the floor where a bowl lay shattered, motionless, giving Li Hanzhou the impression she was pitiable.

At this moment, he felt like he was either going crazy or Qiao Yun had bewitched him; otherwise, why would he go over there and take the knife from her?

“So clumsy. Step aside, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, thanks,” Qiao Yun said as she lifted her indifferent little face and walked away as if it was her due right, her silhouette seemingly bouncing slightly.

Holding the kitchen knife, which Li Hanzhou usually brandished across the negotiating table with aplomb, he watched the small tufts of hair bouncing on the back of the girl’s head and couldn’t help feeling like he was being played.

Was Qiao Yun doing this on purpose?

Probably not; the kid was quite simple.



Qiao Yun sat on the sofa, lifting her wrist, examining the delicate fingertip of her pale forefinger which bore a fresh red cut.

Blood drops followed her movements and fell onto the carpet.

Qiao Yun’s nose twitched as she picked up the faint scent of blood.

This was blood!

The kind that humans have~

Huh, it stopped bleeding.

Qiao Yun frowned as she looked at her fingertip, her glossy eyes seeming suddenly unfocused, wandering from the fruit knife on the coffee table, drifting here and there, roaming freely…

When Li Hanzhou came out of the kitchen, he was immediately drawn to the eye-catching wound on Qiao Yun; his brow furrowed instantly: “Did you get injured while cutting vegetables?”

Qiao Yun’s hands were beautiful, akin to a work of art, except for the eyesore of a bloody mark on her pale finger.

Qiao Yun’s voice was faint, “Minor injury.”

“Do you have a first aid kit?” Li Hanzhou asked, ignoring her comment. Even a small injury could be dangerous if infected.

Qiao Yun dutifully responded, “It’s on the shelf.”

Li Hanzhou opened the first aid kit, rummaged through it without finding an adhesive bandage, and simply took out a spray to disinfect the wound, then wrapped Qiao Yun’s finger in a bandage.

As Qiao Yun gazed intently at the pretty eyes following his every move, Li Hanzhou, with a touch of mischief, tied the bandage into a bow.

Qiao Yun scrutinized the small bow tie with a sense of seriousness, internally sighing at the fragility of humans; such a small injury had to be bandaged so elaborately.

After he finished, Li Hanzhou placed a beautifully presented plate of braised pork on the dining table and tapped his well-defined fingers lightly on the table.

“Come, it’s time to eat.”

As if calling a little kitten.

Then he seemed to catch Qiao Yun glaring at him.

“…?”