Throughout dinner, Song Qingchun, who stood beside the table, was like an obedient little maid, ever ready to serve. When Su Zhinian reached the bottom of his soup bowl or rice bowl, she would be there to refill.
During dinner, Su Zhinian did turn to look at Song Qingchun once. After meeting his eyes, the girl immediately lowered her head. The man stared at her for some time, but he then swallowed the words that had reached his mouth alongside his dinner and allowed her to stand there watching him eat.
Su Zhinian did not stay after dinner. He left immediately after and turned into the bathroom beside the dining room. When he came out of it after brushing his teeth, he glanced toward the dining room and saw Song Qingchun sitting alone at the giant dining table, eating his leftovers. Her head was lowered so much that from his perspective he could only see the top of her head.
Normally, he would also have his dinner alone at the table, but he would not consider himself lonely. Perhaps, it was due to her smaller frame, she seemed stranded at the dining table, and for some reason, he felt sorry for her.
Su Zhinian stood staring at her for some time before turning to leave.
After finishing her meal, Song Qingchun cleared away the dishes and put everything back in order. Then, she carried the fruit plate she had prepared and cautiously walked to the living room.
The television was still on and the volume was lowered, probably because it was in the middle of a commercial break. A document had found its way back into Su Zhinian's hand, but he was not looking at it. Instead, his gaze was turned toward the window; his brows were deeply furrowed as if there was something troublesome on his mind.
Song Qingchun placed the fruit plate on the coffee table and reminded softly, "Mr. Su, fruits."
Su Zhinian's long lashes flitted before his whole face turned around to nod slightly at Song Qingchun. There was an indifference in his demeanor as he turned his attention back to the document in his hand.
Other than the television, which acted as background noise, the room was silent except for the sound of Su Zhinian occasionally flipping the document in his hands. Su Zhinian's attention did not stay on the document for long because he soon turned his head back toward the window.
The lights in the room were on, and against the backdrop of the night, the shiny window acted like a shiny of mirror, reflecting clearly the situation in the room. He saw Song Qingchun leaning against the wall furthest away from him, her head lowered, attentively staring at the phone in her palm.
She seemed to be in the middle of a text conversation with someone. Her fingers kept pressing and swiping across the screen of her phone, and her lips would occasionally curve unconsciously into a smile.
Probably tired from standing in the same posture, Song Qingchun lifted her head as she crossed her legs and her eyes just so happened to sweep across the window. Su Zhinian, who was one step ahead of her, turned his head away one second earlier and lightly flipped through the paper in his hand. Staring at the rows of black characters, he suddenly said in a soft voice, "Brew me a cup of coffee."
The abruptness of his order combined with the long stretch of silence before startled Song Qingchun. She stared confusedly at him for a while before responding with an "Oh" as the reality of the situation came back to her. She put her phone back into her pocket and moved toward the dining room.
Song Qingchun then prepared to serve Su Zhinian. She was bending down to place the coffee on the coffee table when the man extended his hand at her. Song Qingchun quickly placed the coffee cup in his hand.
When Su Zhinian accepted the cup, his finger accidentally brushed against hers. Song Qingchun flinched from the contact, and the coffee splashed from its cup, dirtying his pants.
"I am so sorry, Mr. Su." Song Qingchun put the cup down on the table with lightning speed, pulled out a few paper napkins, and dabbed at the stained pants.
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