Grabbing Your Hand, Dragging You Away

Chapter 12

I pay no attention to his sudden intimate behaviour, and only lower my body to take a closer look at his writing, only seeing that on the clean white paper, there firmly stands the three characters of 'Meng Shao Jue (孟少珏)'.

The ancients have a saying, to judge a person by their handwriting.

Judging from these characters, the brush strokes are smooth like passing clouds and flowing water, unable to see a single trace of a pause. The script long and strongly determined, the finish clean and neat, with not a single trace of dragging through muddy water (not sloppy), this shows that Young Master should be one who carries out tasks in a clear cut and decisive manner, his will firm with strong intentness. Further looking at how he distanced the three characters just right, each character standing elegant and unrestrained on its own, but this isn't obvious to the eyes when they're put together, instead there is a sense of dark connection, hence learning that this person's thoughts are extremely sensitive, with precision to details and good at controlling matters.

Then judging the person, himself, Young Master roughly has the image of your typical wealthy philandering gentleman, handsome in appearance, brocade clothing and precious food, favours beauties and chooses as he pleases, all of these philandering gentleman traits, he seems to meet them all, but occasionally, he would reveal that type of meaningful look in his eyes, that's not something a simple philandering gentleman should have. Perhaps, just as his writing conveys, the true sharpness in him has been concealed under the appearance of his womanising image, this superficial mask is but a type of mean he takes on, in order to mislead others.

People will always have a secret of their own, you do, I do, and very clearly, he does too.

"Can you see anything from it?" Young Master then lowers his body, still intimately sticking by my ear side, his black hair draws a beautiful curve as it enters my line of sight.

I slightly turn my head, meeting his long phoenix eyes that contains a slight smile, and suddenly feel that his orbs in this very moment, are like that of endless darkness, unpredictably deep. I slowly speak up: "Young Master's writing is very pretty."

Young Master's thick and long lashes lightly trembles, his voice a little alluring as he speaks: "What else?"

My expression remains unchanging as I continue: "Young Master's name sounds very nice."

Young Master's voice softly rises a little, "What else?"

I blink, "What else?"

Young Master's hand covering mine very lightly caresses me, "No more?"

I furrow my brows, pondering for a while before making a sudden realisation, firmly calling out, "There is!"

The smile in Young Master's phoenix eyes deepens, vaguely seeming to encourage me, "En."

I shyly smile at him, then make a firm move to push away his chest, reaching out to rub my waist, looking at him in great distress as I say: "What else is, Young Master, you're weighing down on me, I'm so tired."

I watch Young Master's smile instantly freeze in satisfaction, then his thin lips slowly hooks up again, handsome face giving rise to a touch of a dazzling smile, "Ah-Lan, did you know, in fact......"

I naively tilt my head, "Young Master?"

Young Master very quickly uses the brush in hand and draws a line on my face, happily saying: "In fact, Young Master - I - am also very tired."

I could feel the ice-cold substance slither down along my cheek, finally gathering into a droplet as it falls onto the clothing at my chest, like a black little flower embellishing my outfit. I think this person sure is horrible, but who am I? I am Ah-Lan, Ah-Lan - I - am a good girl that doesn't fight with the evil man, the bigger person that doesn't count the lesser person's offences, the old eagle that doesn't pick on little chicks, I am not angry, as if I'd be angry with him.