Sun Guixiang herself was stunned! When she felt the unexpected cool and smooth touch of the boy's hair in her palm, like the finest silk, the wave of ecstasy receded in an instant, as if hitting a hard reef.
The huge panic and the fear of realizing what a terrible mistake she had made instantly overwhelmed her like an icy tide.
She pulled her hand back suddenly as if she had been electrocuted, her cloudy eyes widened, filled with great horror, helplessness and overwhelming fear.
She looked at her hand that had caused such a terrible disaster, then looked at the boy's instantly stiff back and slightly crooked hair. She felt as if all his bones had been pulled out. She took a step back suddenly, her face as pale as gold paper.
"I'm... I'm sorry! I... I didn't mean it! I... I..." She was incoherent, her voice trembling, and the great fear almost suffocated her.
What did she do?! She actually... actually touched the head of this godlike young master?! And while he was sitting at his desk?!
Ye Qingliu sat on a large leather chair, and the moment the palm fell, his body was as if paused.
An extremely abrupt and unfamiliar touch came from above his head - rough, warm, with a texture that he had never experienced before, the most direct feeling of life at the bottom of society.
The feeling was so strange, so unexpected, and completely beyond the scope of his daily experience.
There was no expected intense disgust, no rage of being violated. After the initial, extremely brief, tenth of a second of paralysis, what washed over him was an indescribable sense of astonishment.
Yes, pure shock.
Like a precision instrument being fed with completely unrecognizable gibberish, the program froze instantly.
He could clearly feel the warmth of that hand, the rough friction, and even the tiny dust particles...all of this was incompatible with the cold, self-restrained, and meticulous world around him.
The moment the hand fell, his gray-blue eyes widened slightly behind the lenses, and an extremely rare trace of confusion flashed across the depths of his pupils, like a small stone thrown into a calm lake.
This confusion was fleeting.
Then came a more complicated feeling.
He could feel the undisguised, volcanic eruption of immense gratitude and...love conveyed by that hand?
This pure and passionate emotion, delivered in such a primitive, direct, and even "rough" way, made him feel unprecedentedly at a loss.
His fingers on the document subconsciously curled up, and his fingertips dug slightly into the paper.
His body remained in an upright sitting position, without any movement or excessive reaction, but that momentary stiffness revealed the turmoil in his heart.
He could even feel a few strands of his hair being messed up and sticking up uncomfortably.
The office was eerily silent, with only Sun Guixiang's heavy, terrified breathing and Director Lin's almost stagnant heartbeat as the only sounds.
Ye Qingliu didn't look back immediately.
He still maintained the posture of looking down at the document, as if the earth-shattering scene just now was just an illusion.
A few seconds of silence seemed as long as centuries to Sun Guixiang.
She looked at the boy's stiff back, at his slightly askew hair, and a huge despair completely consumed her. She was finished! Not only had she soiled the young master's hair, she had also committed such an unforgivable blasphemy!
That card that represented hope, that newly received promise of redemption... everything was over!
Her legs softened, unable to support herself any longer, and with a plop, she collapsed to the ground! She covered her face tightly with her hands, her body trembling violently like a sieve, and a suppressed sob emanated from her throat.
Just then—
The night air was flowing.
He raised his head very slowly and steadily, his movements calm and without any trace of anger or panic after being offended.
He first raised his hand, the movement very natural, as if he was simply adjusting his appearance. His slender fingers, very casually, even a little nonchalantly, brushed across the top of his head that had just been touched, gently smoothing down a few strands of hair that had been raised.
The movements were smooth and without a trace of anger, as if just brushing away a tiny bit of insignificant dust.
Then he slowly turned his head.
There was still no expression on that handsome face that looked like a detailed painting.
There was no anger, no disgust, no smile, not even a trace of emotion.
There was only a deep, calm calm. The gray-blue eyes behind the silver-rimmed glasses fell calmly on Sun Guixiang, who lay limp and trembling on the ground.
There was no scrutiny or blame in that look, only an almost pure observation and calmness.
He didn't even say anything.
Director Lin was also somewhat bewildered by the eerily calm atmosphere. She quickly put down her water cup and tried to help the old woman up: "Ms. Sun, please get up quickly. The ground is cold..."
"Director Lin." Ye Qingliu's clear and calm voice sounded, interrupting Director Lin's actions.
Director Lin stopped immediately and looked at Ye Qingliu nervously.
Ye Qingliu's gaze was still on Sun Guixiang, his voice steady and emotionless: "Help her up. Do as I said just now."
After saying this, he no longer looked at anyone, as if the little accident had never happened.
He lowered his head again, his gaze falling back on the document in his hand, and his slender fingers turned a page, making a slight sound of paper rubbing against each other.
His posture was focused and calm, as if the person whose hair had been ruffled just now was not him at all.
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