When her hand suddenly touched his leg, Mr. Yao shivered: "Shen Jiayin, can you let me sit down first? What's the rush?"
That silly girl, when she just admitted whether she sent the stuff, wasn't she feeling shy? Now, she suddenly becomes so proactive, it's making him burn up.
"I'm, I'm sorry." As she realized, her face turned slightly pink, and she pulled her hand back.
The pants she had just rolled up a bit fell back down immediately.
Seeing her sudden change, the corners of Mr. Yao's mouth lifted slightly, unable to resist teasing her, so while reaching to pull a nearby chair, he asked: "Who exactly did you just mistake me for? An injured old man?"
She didn't answer.
His extended hand quickly brushed through the hair on her head: "I'm a man about your age, if you don't understand, should I teach you how to distinguish between young men and old men?"
The silly kid blushed, not daring to lift her head.
