On the stage, the troupes had already swapped out three times, and the melody shifted once more. The high-pitched, warbling trills of the opera singers gave way to the clanging, clashing sounds of stage combat. Xiaotong still kept her head lowered, looking neither at the stage nor at Min Moyou.
Min Moyou had never seen an opera before. Initially, he had been quite interested, but now he had lost all appetite for it. His attention was entirely focused on the young person beside him, and his gaze rarely lingered on the performance.
This made the actors constantly feel that this major patron was dissatisfied with their performance, prompting them to change through three completely different styles in a row...
Singing opera in the dead of night meant they were merely desperate souls trying to make a living. In this current era of rapid economic and technological development, entertainment options were exploding like geysers. How many people would still stop and spend money on traditional opera?
Let alone spend money on it as a form of leisure.
They were by no means top-tier opera artists; they lacked the clout to catch the attention of the powerful or break into high society. The class of onlookers they faced had idle money but no interest, or interest but no idle money. Their living conditions were far harder than one might imagine.
Yet these few troupes relied entirely on these theatrical arts for survival. The dismal business of running independent theaters hardly needed mentioning, but having dedicated half their lives to the stage and considering themselves refined, they were naturally unwilling to do rough labor unless driven to absolute desperation.
After countless twists and turns, through a combination of serendipity and dead ends, they ultimately sought shelter under the patronage of a teahouse owner named Zuisheng.
Speaking of this owner Zuisheng, she was a figure of truly boundless resourcefulness. She managed two establishments—a small teahouse and an open-air venue. Usually, despite having very few patrons, she seemed to possess an endless supply of wealth, often managing to secure small batches of highly sought-after, expensive tea leaves.
Though the teahouse saw few customers and business was dismal, not a single commoner was ever seen interacting with owner Zuisheng. Everyone who visited looked wealthy and distinguished, either exuding an extraordinary aura or dripping with gold and jade. They would slip mysteriously in and out of the small teahouse without even drinking tea.
Even when customers were present, they were left unattended, as if running a teahouse was merely her personal hobby. Every time people saw owner Zuisheng, a teacup was never far from her hand. She would simply drink by herself, her gaze hazy as she stared into the cup with a drunken expression that matched her name. Truly, nobody knew whether she was drinking tea or alcohol—perhaps it was a blazing, heavy tea with an alcohol content exceeding ninety percent? *(Mental note: insert wry smile here)*
It was precisely this owner Zuisheng—someone who cared nothing for making a profit—who took in these near-destitute, self-proclaimed high-minded opera snobs. She exclusively rented out an open-air teahouse, built a stage for them, and provided their most basic food and shelter, leaving them to earn extra money entirely through their own efforts based on the tips they received from the audience.
One could say she was keeping a few opera troupes, possessing quite a bit of the refined elegance and romantic flair of wealthy youths from a bygone era.
Tea and opera were both widely known traditional refinements. Taken individually, either might not be enough to make leisurely and refined people spend money or time on it. But when the two were combined, that leisurely elegance produced a charm greater than the sum of its parts, making people yearn to dabble in such refinement.
Naturally, more consumers were willing to pay for it.
This was a testament to owner Zuisheng’s unique vision. While everyone else merely saw those opera troupes as money-draining ventures, who could have imagined such a marketing strategy?
Had owner Zuisheng not been out running errands tonight, she undoubtedly would have emerged from the small teahouse to cultivate connections upon encountering such a massive client—though goodness only knew why a teahouse owner spent every single day running business errands outside.
Her subordinates, however, felt no great urge to uncover the truth. They were just ordinary wage-earners who only wanted to make money. Thus, they mustered twelve hundred percent enthusiasm to entertain Min Moyou, a major client the likes of which they hadn't see in years:
Whether it was the martial dan unleashing a flurry of sweat and earth-shattering roars while wielding a broadsword, the gentle southern-accented maidens on stage casting charming glances and throwing embroidered balls at Min Moyou, or even the qipao-clad reception hostess hinting that she offered a few hidden services and asking if Min Moyou needed them...
None of these managed to earn even a side-long glance or the slightest favor from Min Moyou.
The tea and the sour dried plum preserved fruits were brought out promptly. The Special Grade Tianfu Longjing lived up to its reputation, its rich aroma filling the air and noticeable from halfway across the tea table.
With the tea and its accompaniments served, Xiaotong still showed no reaction.
Outwardly, Min Moyou rested his right hand on the armrest of the soft chair and propped his head up to watch the opera, but in reality, his gaze was constantly drifting to the right, using his peripheral vision to keep an eye on Xiaotong.
He was paying so much attention that he completely missed the qipao-clad hostess, who had bowed to set down the teapot, showing off her curves right in front of him yet again.
"Hmph~"
With a coquettish huff, the qipao-clad hostess puffed out her cheeks and stomped away in her high heels. Only then did Min Moyou snap out of his reverie. Up until that moment, he had simply been wondering why Xiaotong was acting like this.
Weren't they having a great time wandering through the snack street just moments ago?
Could it be that she was jealous because I had a bit of close contact with the hostess?
Then again... Min Moyou lacked the confidence to believe that merely spending a single evening together could make Xiaotong fond of him.
Even though he was very wealthy right now, he didn't believe affection was something so easily acquired.
Yet Xiaotong's current appearance looked so sorrowful, stirring Min Moyou's thoughts into a chaotic mess. He wanted to say something, but had no idea what to say.
If he cast himself in the role of an overbearing CEO, how would an overbearing CEO handle this...?
Min Moyou fell into deep thought, and an answer quickly came to him: an overbearing CEO should be even more confident—bordering on narcissism!
He should strike a pose that said every woman in the world loved him!
Min Moyou knew how to speak up now. Though there was a risk of triggering supreme awkwardness, perhaps it would raise his roleplay synchronization rate?
If so, it wouldn't be a loss.
Having figured it out, Min Moyou leaned back against the chair, raised his chin, tilted his face at a slight forty-five-degree angle, looked down his nose at Xiaotong, and parted his lips slightly:
"Heh! Woman."
"Have you too been conquered by my damnably fatal charm?"
"Rest assured, my standards are very high."
"Based on her, she's not good enough to catch my eye."
"Naturally, the same goes for you."
"Do not harbor any unrealistic fantasies."
.
..
...
[Congratulations to the Host for successfully mimicking the mindset of an overbearing CEO. Overbearing CEO roleplay synchronization rate increased by 2%. Current synchronization rate: 22%.]
Three years—no, three seconds passed. The system reacted, but Xiaotong still did not.
Min Moyou inexplicably felt his face burning a bit, yet he forced himself to maintain the CEO persona, acting completely indifferent as if magnanimously granting Xiaotong a moment to process his words.
*(Meanwhile, the six-member Death Guard team of Dragon Descendant from the Min Family, lurking in the shadows, grew lively once more:*
*Peacock: "I'm going to kill her! Kill her!!! How dare she give the Master attitude!"*
*Yeying: "All of you, hold it! Stop her! Without the Master's summons, you must not show yourselves casually! Peacock, what do you take the rules for?!"*
*Peacock: "Yeying! What do you take the Master for?! A master's humiliation calls for a subject's death—how can you just sit there?! Is there even a shred of the Master left in your heart? Are you even fit to be the captain?! Let go of me! Let go of me!"*
*Yeying: "Whether I am fit to be captain or not is not for you to judge. Lawless wretch, I don't know how you ever became vice-captain. All you do is cause trouble for me and for the Master!"*
*Peacock: "What do you know?! Today she dares to give the Master attitude! Tomorrow she'll dare to lay hands on the Master and brawl! The day after, she'll dare to murder the Master in cold blood for his money! I am merely nipping the danger in the bud, do you understand?!"*
*Dove: "Um... is it possible... she's just asleep? She didn't hear the Master speaking..."*
*Peacock: "Then she is being insolent! How dare she sleep in the Master's presence?! She, she, she..."*
*"..."*)]
As a support specialist whose Dragon Curse leaned toward reconnaissance and detection, Dove possessed the strongest spiritual power in the entire team. Even across a considerable distance, she could accurately gauge Xiaotong's condition.
That's right, Xiaotong had fallen asleep.
Her body was exhausted after a busy day; her digestive system sent signals of drowsiness after she had eaten and drunk her fill.
The warbling opera served as a lullaby, while the dramatic plot of a big sister throwing herself into a patron's arms acted as a bedtime story.
The soft lounge chair was even more comfortable than the old foam sofa at Longchao Pavilion; the gentle breeze was a natural, complimentary air conditioner; and the fragrance of floral tea brought an even more soothing experience...
No sooner had Xiaotong touched the soft recliner than her mind drifted into dreamland:
In her dream, she used Min Moyou as a chair, lying backward in his warm, sturdy arms while endlessly pulling an inexhaustible supply of money from his various pockets;
There was also a big sister wearing a qipao, soft and fragrant with a wonderful figure, hovering over her, expressing deep concern and feeding her cherries mouth-to-mouth...
"Hehe... hehehe..."
"Endless money... a soft big sister... sweet cherries... and..."
"Hehe-he..."
She slept peacefully and sweetly.
Hearing the sleep-talking, Min Moyou stood there with dark lines across his forehead as it finally dawned on him...
So she wasn't ignoring him... she had just fallen asleep?
Well, that settled that.
Still, falling asleep on her own accord and leaving her employer hanging—wasn't that a bit inappropriate?
Immediately, a mischievous grin tugged at the corner of Min Moyou's mouth, and he slammed his heavy hand down onto the tea table!
"Bang!"
The teacups, teapot, and pastry plates on the table all bounced into the air, floating for a brief fraction of a second.
"Eek—!"
Xiaotong's body snapped straight as a board in an instant, jolting her entirely from the dream back into reality.
Awake!
Wide awake!
How could Xiaotong endure having her hard-earned pleasant dream interrupted?!
Her consciousness barely recovered, and instead of questioning why she wasn't sleeping on the old sofa at Longchao Pavilion in the middle of the night but rather sleeping outside, she immediately whipped her head around, pointed straight at Min Moyou, and prepared to unleash a torrent of abuse:
"You!..."
Looking at Min Moyou's face, Xiaotong's memories came flooding back like a tide—
Ah? Where am I?
Oh right, I'm on a commission!
He's my employer!
He pays seven hundred and twenty thousand a month!!
I fell asleep while on the job...
Very well, Xiaotong could no longer act tough.
She sat back down.
A warm, enthusiastic smile bloomed across her face once more.
"Young Master, what is it?"
"Why did you jump up just now?"
"Uh... well, I was sitting for too long, my body felt a bit stiff, so I stood up to stretch a bit. Sorry about that, Young Master, did I startle you? I'll be more careful next time, next time~"
"Then why were you pointing at me?"
"Ah... this... well... let me sophist—ugh, I mean, let me explain..."
"Very well, go ahead and sophist."
"It's just that... just that...? Just what could it be... Oh right! It's just that little old me suddenly discovered my hands look rather nice, and wanted to show them to the Young Master, nothing much..."
"Oh? Is that so?"
Min Moyou turned his head, his gaze scrutinizing Xiaotong.
"Mhm, right..."
Xiaotong's eyes darted left and right, not daring to meet Min Moyou's gaze.
"Then did you hear what I said just now?"
"You spoke...?? Oh-oh, of course! I always put the Young Master's matters first!"
"Then repeat it back to me."
Min Moyou narrowed his eyes, a hard-to-detect playfulness hidden beneath his deep, profound gaze.
"Ah...? Repeat it back...?"
Xiaotong had indeed vaguely heard something about women, fantasies, not being impressed, and so on.
Surely Min Moyou hadn't said something to her like: "Woman, don't dream that I'd ever fancy someone like you," right?
Xiaotong didn't dare gamble on it, and stammered, unable to squeeze out a word.
"Forget it. The tea is here, pour it."
Min Moyou waved his hand, signaling the end of the matter.
It was better if she hadn't heard.
She was so foolish; it was quite fun.
Xiaotong let out a silent, prolonged sigh of relief, picked up the teapot and teacup from the table, and poured a cup for Min Moyou.
Phew... good thing, good thing. This employer isn't too bright; he didn't notice anything.
Such a high hourly wage—holding onto it was truly no easy task...
As expected of me!
Swish—
As the tea was poured into the cup, that unique, pure fragrance gushed directly outward. Rich and persistent, it practically enveloped Xiaotong's entire being.
The clear, bright tender-green tea liquor offered a refreshing visual treat.
Xiaotong wasn't very cultured; she only knew one thing about this tea: *Holy cow! It's gorgeous! It smells amazing! It looks so delicious! Expensive stuff really is different!*
I struck gold!
He had someone bring two pots, so one of them definitely belonged to her!
Joy blossomed across Xiaotong's face—barring any unforeseen circumstances, she would never in her life bear to spend money to taste this pot of Special Grade Tianfu Longjing, not even with her 720,000 savings.
What kind of decent person spends over two thousand on a pot of tea?
That would make them a pure idiot!
Isn't tea just tea? You drink the stuff that costs a few bucks, so why not the stuff that costs thousands?
Does it brew solid gold or something?!
The old Xiaotong might have sneered at such a thing.
But now she only wanted to say: *Damn, this is good!*
It smelled **ing amazing!
Rich people really knew how to enjoy themselves!
And thank goodness the idiot spending the money wasn't her...
"Young Master, the tea is ready. Please enjoy."
"Mhm."
The freshly brewed tea was quite hot, and the porcelain teacup had strong thermal conductivity. Min Moyou planned to let it sit on the table to cool for a moment before drinking so it wouldn't burn his hands or mouth.
Right then, Min Moyou noticed the expectant gaze Xiaotong was casting his way.
"Something on your mind? Spit it out."
"It's not really a big deal. Young Master, I was just thinking that drinking too much tea at night makes it easy to have trouble sleeping, and it's bad for your health. Plus, Young Master, you ordered two pots. If you can't finish it all, it's hard to take away, and it doesn't taste good once it cools down. Wouldn't that be a waste..."
While claiming to have Min Moyou's best interests at heart, Xiaotong gazed with yearning eyes straight at the other untouched pot, her desire undisguised and utterly unmasked.
Tsk.
How could Min Moyou fail to see through Xiaotong's little scheme?
"Stop probing. I ordered that one for you, go ahead and drink it."
"Thank you, Young Master!"
"You little trickster."
"Hehe!"
Well then, Xiaotong wouldn't stand on ceremony.
As a Dragon Descendant, bolstered by the power of her Dragon Curse, Xiaotong's physical constitution far surpassed that of an ordinary person. Naturally, she had no fear of anything scalding hot. She grabbed the teapot, filled a whole cup to the brim, and chugged it down in a single gulp!
"Ah—! Refreshing! Delicious!"
Min Moyou was startled for a moment—wasn't she afraid of it being hot?
Then he remembered he was a Dragon Descendant too; his physical stats were several times higher than a normal human's, so why would he fear this bit of temperature?
He had almost overlooked it.
Min Moyou reached out, picked up his teacup, brought it to his lips, and took a small sip."Really not bad." [Truly not bad.]
With a cup of tea in her belly, Xiaotong felt refreshed all over. The greasy, heavy feeling lingering from eating various snacks earlier was completely washed away by this single gulp of tea.
What a wonderful life experience!
Xiaotong hurriedly poured herself another full cup, grabbed a few dried plums and preserved fruits, shoved them into her mouth by the handful, and chased them down with another sip of tea. The sour-sweet fruit flavor mingled with the aroma of the tea in her mouth as she chewed and swallowed them all together.
Her eating style was utterly crude. Calling her a "wild boar unappreciative of fine fodder" would actually be overestimating Xiaotong.
But eating like this was genuinely delicious—!
At that moment, Xiaotong's desire to befriend Min Moyou reached its absolute peak!
No way!
I have to make friends with him!
Freeloading like this is just too wonderful!
"Um... Young Master, we've known each other for so long, yet I still don't know where you're from or what your name is? Would it be convenient to let me broaden my horizons? Just... just out of curiosity~ I'm not up to anything."
Xiaotong asked meekly.
Min Moyou had been waiting for this question for far too long!
His calm face shifted through a myriad of expressions in an instant, carrying four parts arrogance, three parts disdain, two parts pride, and one part lawless swagger as he opened his mouth:
"Minqin District, Min Family, Min Moyou."
Watching the expression on Min Moyou's face that clearly broadcasted, "I'm so badass! Absolute peak badass!", Xiaotong frantically searched her brain for any meager impressions she had of Minqin District.
Minqin District? Min Family? Min Moyou?
Never heard of it?!
This, however, did not prevent Xiaotong from showering him with flattery and trying to cozy up:
" Wow! So Young Master, you're from the Min Family of Minqin District! That name rings like thunder, I've looked up to you for a long time!"
"I heard Minqin District is a famous tourist city; I've wanted to go check it out for ages! I'm so envious!"
For a moment, Xiaotong pieced together and cobbled together a whole string of pleasantries.
Min Moyou smiled, feeling the unique joy of teasing a fool.
He knew Xiaotong had definitely never heard of such a family; she was purely blowing hot air.
Because Min Moyou hadn't heard of it either.
It was entirely fictionalized.
When traveling away from home, your identity is whatever you give yourself.
Min Moyou pressed his palm down toward Xiaotong, a look of smug satisfaction crossing his face:
"Keep it low-profile, low-profile."
"I didn't expect you to have some discernment after all."
Xiaotong was ready to say anything, quickly seizing the chance to demonstrate her value:
"Of course! I am a top-tier agent, after all! Having traveled far and wide for so many years, the friends and factions I know are countless—my connections are vast! My information network is top-notch!"
"Oh, is that so impressive?"
Min Moyou set his finished teacup back down on the table and tapped the surface, signaling Xiaotong to refill it.
"You bet!"
Xiaotong obediently picked up the teapot while internally speculating: *The Min Family? What kind of family could that be...?*
Anyway, they had to be super rich.
Just as she was about to pour tea for Min Moyou, the distracted Xiaotong suddenly felt her eyes flash with a streak of light.
*Ah~ What just flashed in my eyes!*
Holding the teapot steady, Xiaotong looked closer—it turned out that the stage lighting was refracting multicolored rays through the jewelry Min Moyou wore on his hands.
When she first met Min Moyou, Xiaotong had only given him a cursory glance. The park's lighting had been dim, so those pieces hadn't appeared nearly this dazzling...
Xiaotong's eyes locked onto them instantly, unable to pull away. She held the teapot steady for a long time without even feeling any soreness in her arm.
What woman could resist such glittering, shiny things?
Xiaotong's prolonged inaction caught Min Moyou's attention.
*Oh? The little money-lover's eyes are glowing again?*
"Do you like it?"
A scheme welled up in Min Moyou's heart.
"Pretty... can I touch it?"
Xiaotong was practically drooling at the corners of her mouth—mind you, she hadn't even drooled when she dreamed of the gentle-voiced, soft-bodied big sister and endless piles of cash.
"Sure."
Min Moyou agreed nonchalantly, a trace of anticipation rising in his heart.
Hearing Min Moyou say yes, Xiaotong immediately set down the teapot, reverently cupping Min Moyou's hand in both of hers as her fingertips traced repeatedly over the jewelry adorning his fingers.
"Wow... wow... wow..."
Xiaotong didn't know how much these items were worth, nor had she previously understood why those worthless rocks were so expensive—jades and diamonds, weren't they just rocks when all was said and done?
Now she knew.
Because they looked good. They looked **ing amazing!
"These... must be very expensive, right? Cost a few hundred thousand?"
Xiaotong swallowed a mouthful of saliva and asked expectantly, wondering if she could afford one herself once she collected the final payment on this commission.
Just looking at them every day would make her happy; the emotional value they provided was totally worth the price!
A few hundred thousand was already the absolute limit of Xiaotong's imagination.
"This one~ isn't expensive at all."
Min Moyou enjoyed the feeling of Xiaotong's soft little hands roaming over his large hand, which felt just like a massage and made him narrow his eyes in bliss.
Leaning back against the recliner, Min Moyou's tone turned a few shades lazier.
"Not expensive? Not expensive is great! I'll get one myself another day! You can give me some pointers when the time comes, okay?"
Xiaotong reasoned that if it wasn't expensive, it must be tens of thousands, right?
That must be what a wealthy young master meant by "not expensive."
Her hands didn't stop moving; these shiny things truly appealed to Xiaotong.
While enjoying the moment, Min Moyou seized the opportunity to grab one of Xiaotong's little hands in return. Xiaotong's attention was entirely focused on the rings and thumb rings, so she didn't mind.
"Which one do you think looks best?"
Min Moyou's imperial favor was greatly pleased, and he smoothly continued chatting about the topic that interested Xiaotong.
"They're all nice... every single one of them looks so good..."
Xiaotong was in a terrible dilemma—why did she have to pick a single best one out of so many gorgeous things?
After hesitating for a long while and stroking them for a long while, Xiaotong pointed on her own accord at the ring Min Moyou wore on his pinky finger and said:
"It has to be this one. This one looks the best."
It was a ring with a pure gold band and an eight-sided pink diamond as the setting—simple and direct, the brightest of all Min Moyou's jewelry.
Visually, that pink diamond was well over fifty carats.
Gold plus diamond, make it a pink diamond, and it was so blindingly flashy—this one definitely had to be the most expensive!
Expensive meant good!
Good meant best-looking!
That was how Xiaotong, utterly ignorant of jade and emeralds, reasoned.
What a pity it was worn on someone else's hand...
If it were worn on *my* hand, it would definitely look even better!
I wish I could wear it forever... hehehe...
Once she put it on, she wouldn't want to take it off, boohoo...
Even though she knew it was terribly forward, the desire to possess this ring ultimately drove Xiaotong to muster up her courage and ask:
"Moyou, have you thought about parting with this ring? I honestly love it! How about you let me have it? Once the commission is over, I'll wire the money to you."
(In the shadows,
Peacock: "Ahhhhhhh! How dare she covet the master's belongings?! How dare she address the master by his given name?! So insolent! Such utter disrespect for station! I'm going to slaughter her! Slaughter her!!!!!!")
(Yeying: "Hold her down! Get a grip on yourself, you idiot!")
(Oriole: "Oh my~ A little Peacock who has never been favored by the master is throwing a tantrum. How pathetic~")
(Peacock: "What the f*** are you saying?! Say that again!!!")
(Oriole: "How pathetic~")
(Peacock: "You're asking for it! You're dead, you're dead!!!!!!")
(Oriole: "Waya ya~ The little Peacock is blowing her top~ I'm so, so scared~")
(".........................."))
Hearing this, Min Moyou smiled.
"Alright, it's yours."
"Really?! Thank you so much! How much is it? You don't mind if I pay you a few days late, right?"
Joy was written all across Tong's face; the guarded look in her eyes as she gazed at Min Moyou was replaced by genuine, warm enthusiasm.
"The workmanship is pretty poor. It's only worth a few hundred million Kowloon Coins or so—I don't really remember, my family elders gave it to me to play with when I was a kid."
"How mu—?!"
"Seven or eight hundred million. What? Is that a lot? You wanted to pay me a few days late?"
"Just kidding... I was just trying it on for fun..."
With a reluctant expression, Tong extended her ring-bearing hand toward Min Moyou, biting her lip and frowning as she said:
"You... you take it back. You take it off. If you make me take it off myself, it'll just be too cruel..."
No way! Surely that bit of gold was only worth ten or twenty thousand at most?
With some carved patterns, maybe thirty thousand tops?
Who could have guessed that crummy little rock was so expensive!
She couldn't afford it even if she drank northwest wind for the rest of her life!
Min Moyou took Tong's outstretched hand. Tong closed her eyes in sheer agony and turned her head away—farewell, my precious darling!
Yet she heard Min Moyou say casually to himself:
"Now that I look at it, your hand actually looks quite nice."
???
"Since taking it off is so cruel, then don't take it off."
"But... I... can't afford it?"
Upon hearing these words, Tong felt a jolt of mixed shock and terror.
Wearing seven hundred million on her hand, Tong had never felt her hand weigh so heavy!
What on earth does he mean?
Could he be trying to buy me with this ring???
Has he already prepared a servitude contract?
Is he going to make me work for him for the rest of my life?!*
Seven hundred million?! What am I supposed to use to pay seven hundred million?!
On the bright side, what if he actually intended to give it to her as a gift?
Do I really have that much face? Could I accept seven hundred million with a clear conscience?
I could never!
Isn't this probably the most expensive piece of jewelry he owns?
Is this his way of putting me in my place for lacking self-awareness?
She was caught in a dilemma!
"Can't afford it? Then don't buy it."
"I'm giving it to you."
"It's just a worthless little trinket."
Ignoring Tong's hesitation and suspicion, he patted her hand, sat back up straight, and calmly watched the show.
His demeanor showed absolute indifference toward the ring.
Min Moyou had long wanted to give away those rings and such anyway; wearing them dug into his fingers and was thoroughly uncomfortable.
Tong stood frozen in place, looking down at the ring, unable to believe any of this.
Huh? Why?
Then she heard Min Moyou watching the stage without sparing a single glance for Tong, speaking unhurriedly:
"Appropriately granting a servant some trivial items as encouragement is simply the Min Family's way of managing people."
Seeming to feel that drinking tea would fit the mood better at this moment, he glanced at the tea table—oh, his cup was still empty, as Tong had been too stunned to pour him any tea.
Looking over again, Tong's cup was full.
Where was the logic in a domineering CEO pouring his own tea?
Taking advantage of the fact that Tong had not yet recovered her wits, Min Moyou picked up Tong's teacup and began drinking from it.
At this moment, Tong had only two thoughts in her head:
One: Since I look so gorgeous, he must have taken a fancy to me!
The other: I think I'm starting to understand what kind of clan the Minqin Min Clan really is...
"Thud."
Min Moyou lightly tapped the finished teacup down on the tea table.
"Tap, tap."
He lightly tapped his fingers against the table surface.
"Snap out of it, you hopeless thing."
"Pour the tea."
"You got it, Young Master!"