"In a hurry for what? We've always interacted like this. I've been behaving like a monk for three years. You wouldn't want me to carry on like this, would you?"
Ye Ranran's face turned bright red. She realized it was impossible to communicate with this kind of shameless person.
"I'm going to brush my teeth." She pushed him away and headed toward the bathroom.
Knowing she had let it go, Jun Mochan smiled faintly and walked toward the walk-in closet.
Ye Ranran looked at the variety of clothes in the closet, choosing a shirt and some cropped pants, paired with small leather shoes—her usual crisp and skillful attire.
"It's 7:40; will we make it in time?"
"It's a bit late," Jun Mochan replied honestly.
Ye Ranran quickly applied some powder to her face, grabbed her bag, and said, "Then let's hurry."
"Slow down." Jun Mochan grabbed her hand. "If you shouldn't run, then don't run."
How did he know? Ye Ranran turned to look at him in surprise.
