The Next Day
Han Weiwei woke up groggily, stretched lazily, threw off her blanket, slipped into her slippers, and walked out of the bedroom.
“Huh? What’s that smell?”
A peculiar, delicious aroma wafted into her nose. She sniffed hard, curiosity taking over, and followed the scent.
At the kitchen door, she froze—Yin Dang was busy cooking inside. For a second, her brain short-circuited.
“Good morning, Weiwei,” Yin Dang greeted her casually.
Han Weiwei pouted. “Call me Miss Han, brat.”
“I think Weiwei sounds better. And I’m turning eighteen next year—I’m not a brat. The parts that are supposed to be big are already big!” Yin Dang said while flipping the eggs in the pan.
“You—!” Han Weiwei glared fiercely at him. This guy was way too perverted.
The smell grew stronger. Despite herself
