010: The girl who applies the screen protector truly loves you!

Ah Wan rolled up her sleeves and joined the chicken-catching fray.

Vice Director Zhao didn't dare to take it lightly, either. He picked up a loudspeaker to direct the chicken catching, "Catch that motley rooster!"

"You stand by machine one."

"You, machine two."

"Surround it!"

"Quick, grab it!"

At the Vice Director's command, several male assistants and Ah Wan swarmed up, cornering the chicken within the encirclement. Ah Wan seized the opportunity and quickly used his grapple, and in the blink of an eye, the chicken soared into the air, "Cluck cluck cluck cluck..."

After a flurry, the chicken headed straight toward a direction, and Ah Wan focused her gaze.

Damn!

Vice Director Zhao slapped his forehead in dismay.

The motley rooster landed on the shoulder of the bedridden lead director, and instantly, the entire place fell deathly silent. Then, only a plop was heard as a blob of chicken poop teetered, about to fall.

Jiang Zhi was utterly dumbfounded, his face ghastly pale.

The silence was profound, one could hear a pin drop. Ah Wan held her breath, not daring to breathe, and tiptoed carefully forward, "Mr. Jiang."

She whispered as if speaking in hush tones, wary not to disturb the chicken and that impending blob of chicken poop.

Jiang Zhi lay there, his body stiff, "Quick, get it away."

His voice trembled.

Ah Wan was afraid he might pass out from not catching his breath, knowing full well how the young master was delicate and particularly obsessed with cleanliness.

"Don't move," Ah Wan instructed seriously, "Absolutely don't move, the chicken poop will fall."

"..."

Jiang Zhi's pale face turned dark, "What the hell do you want me to do then?" He was so angry that his handsome face contorted.

Ah Wan didn't quite know what to do, hesitated for a long while, then took a small step forward, reached out her hand, but before touching, suddenly—

A chicken feather landed on Vice Director Zhao's face, causing his nose to itch.

"Achoo!"

Almost simultaneously, the motley rooster's wings flapped, and it leapt into the air.

"Cluck, cluck, cluck!"

Amidst the fluttering chicken feathers, a black object hurled directly onto Jiang Zhi's gray sweater, freezing him entirely, he instinctively closed his eyes.

"Cluck!"

A gust of wind suddenly passed by, whisking up the chicken feathers. No one noticed where the person in a hemp garment came from, her face and head all covered, seen pressing down towards the director. The blob of chicken poop then landed on her hemp garment.

"Hmm!"

Jiang Zhi grunted under the pressure, suddenly opened his eyes, and met a pair of bright eyes—like an endless night sky, dark and seamless.

Zhou Xufang.

As Xue Baoyi mentioned, this girl was named Zhou Xufang— a strange name, a strange person, strangely laying on top of him, stirring a weird turmoil in his mind. He had never been physically close to the opposite sex before, yet this person repeatedly broke his norms, even touching him, leaving him completely perplexed.

Bewilderingly, he swallowed, his adam's apple scorching hot, his entire face flushing, "You, you… cough cough cough…"

His breath choked in his throat, causing his eyes to turn red.

Zhou Xufang lay there, blinking her eyes.

He yelled at her, "Get off me!"

Oh.

She climbed off him, since Jiang Zhi had taken off his coat while filming the explosion scene, his gray sweater tangled with her hemp costume revealing a stretch of fair waist, her fingers unintentionally brushing across.

So smooth.

Zhou Xufang looked at that stretch of waist, unfortunately, she missed seeing it as the owner almost aggressively pulled the sweater down to cover his waist, then flipped a blanket over firmly covering himself. After completing these actions in one go, he sat up, covered his mouth, and coughed desperately.

Coughing his heart out!

How delicate, Zhou Xufang thought, then asked, "Are you alright?"

Her face was wrapped, revealing only a pair of phoenix eyes. Those eyes, seemingly clear and cool, made Jiang Zhi's heart warm. He suppressed the itch in his throat, heaving deeply, "You, stay away from me!"

He stammered again.

Jiang Zhi clenched his fists, annoyed and feeling feverish all over.

She then took five steps back.

At that moment, Ah Wan stepped forward and asked, "Mr. Jiang, how are you?" Your face is so red, even your ears and collarbone are red, something's not right.

Jiang Zhi propped himself up with one hand on the lounge chair, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, breathless as he spoke weakly, "What do you think?"

Ah Wan thought that her employer was indeed delicate and highly strung, so she considerately said, "It seems like you've been crushed. Do you want me to call Dr. Xue over?"

Jiang Zhi licked his teeth, then violently pulled on his jacket and put it on, "Get the fuck away from me!" He looked up, glaring at the person whose face was covered, "Everyone, get out!"

Fang Lixiang hurried over, pulling Zhou Xufang away, and even Vice Director Zhao didn't dare to say a word, signaling everyone to retreat with his eyes.

However, Ah Wan didn't dare to really leave and followed up.

"I think I've caused trouble again," Zhou Xufang said, glancing at the still flapping, ragged rooster, her brows tight.

Fang Lixiang comforted her, "It's not your fault. It was all the chicken's fault."

She drooped her eyelids, "I was the one who gifted that chicken."

Fang Lixiang: "..."

How come the more he looked at Zhou Xufang, the more adorably awkward she seemed?

There was a bathroom in the director's office.

It took Jiang Zhi more than half an hour to come out of the shower, the water temperature was set high, and his skin, already pale, turned a bright red.

Ah Wan stood at the door, "Mr. Jiang."

"Come in."

Ah Wan hesitated as she entered, head down, quietly placing down the clothes, planning to leave quickly.

"Lin Wanwan."

"..."

Could he stop using that name! He had a man's dignity, and Ah Wan reluctantly looked up, "Your orders?"

Jiang Zhi, clad in a soft white bathrobe, the neckline loose, his hair still damp, water trickling along his facial contours into the collar, "Go butcher that chicken."

"Oh."

Ah Wan stole a glance at her employer's neckline, what heavenly collarbones! A big man and yet so finely sculpted. Roughness suited him better anyway.

Jiang Zhi rubbed his hair with a towel, "Aren't you leaving yet?"

"Oh." Ah Wan reached the door but couldn't help turning back, "Mr. Jiang, I've noticed something."

"Speak."

Ah Wan then said, "I think that sticker has fallen for your beauty."

"Where did you see that?" Jiang Zhi, pulling at his bathrobe, sniffed it, feeling as if there was still a smell, wiped his neck repeatedly with a towel, the skin reddening from the friction.

Ah Wan's reason was, "She blocked the chicken poop for you." That's got to be true love!

Jiang Zhi paused in his movements, lifting his eyelids, "Don't mention that word again."

Now chickens couldn't even be mentioned.

Ah Wan wisely changed her wording, "She blocked the poop for you."

Just as he finished speaking, a milk can hit him, leaving him dazed.

"..."

Working is hard.

Ah Wan rubbed his head and left quietly, catching a glimpse of the table from the corner of his eye—Huh? Didn't he dislike that box of milk for smelling like chicken poop? Why was it opened?

The mind of an employer, a needle in the sea!

At eight o'clock in the evening, orchestra music rose in Fusheng Inn. The Imperial City had numerous dens of pleasure, mostly lavish, unlike the elegant Fusheng Inn.

Plum, Orchid, Chrysanthemum, Bamboo—the wall paintings were exquisitely done, in front of them, a man and woman dressed flamboyantly.

The woman, soft as if boneless, leaned against the wall, smiling enchantingly, "Young Master."

The man, with a slight smile, a hint of displeasure, "Mr. will do, what Young Master?"

In the Imperial City, there's more than one Mr. Xue, but in the regular clientele of Fusheng Inn, there was only one Mr. Xue from Xue Family.

Xue Baoyi's father was the second oldest at home, thus a Mr. Xue, and Xue Baoyi, being the second grandchild, could only be Young Master, though Xue Baoyi disliked this ambiguous title, insisting people call him Mr.

The woman tactfully changed her title, "Mr., would you like to have a drink with me?"

"Did you wear perfume?" Xue Baoyi pulled his hand back, stepping back, "Then keep your distance, someone here dislikes the smell of women's perfume."