Her face was plump and cute, like a soft, white glutinous rice dumpling.
Yan Zhi turned her face away and gave Shi Yan a glare, signaling him not to touch her.
Seeing the girl put on a stern face, Shi Yan instead smiled.
Just like those mischievous boys in school who loved to pull on girls' braids, seeing her angry fueled his desire to tease her even more.
"Rourou will come again tomorrow, right? If you don't come to deliver food, no one will take care of me."
The man's lazy voice carried a note of pleading. He was truly pitiful now, afflicted with some terminal illness, with little time left, and Long Wushe showed no intention of taking care of Shi Yan.
Yan Zhi did not look at him. Lowering her eyes, she gazed at the bloodstained wet tissue in her hand. She threw it into the trash can and pulled out a few more tissues to hand to Shi Yan.
However, Shi Yan didn't take them. He spread out his palm to Yan Zhi, wanting her to wipe his hands.
