"Why did you come out without drying your hair?" Song Qi'an frowned as he looked at Zhou Sui's wet hair and stepped aside to let her in.
"Come in and blow-dry your hair."
The windows in the corridor were half open, but a cool breeze still blew in from outside.
Zhou Sui figured she had to talk to him anyway, so she simply stepped inside.
Song Qi'an moved the stool in front of the table to the bedside and went to the bathroom to get a hair dryer.
"I can do it myself." Zhou Sui reached for the hairdryer, but Song Qi'an raised his hand slightly and pressed down on Zhou Sui's shoulder to help her sit down.
The buzzing of the hairdryer filled the room, and Zhou Sui felt a pair of warm, large hands gently stroking her head.
This was the first time someone had blow-dried her hair. There wasn't a mirror in front of her, otherwise Zhou Sui could have seen herself sitting up straight, just like a primary school student in class.
After blowing for a while, Song Qi'an quickly noticed that Zhou Sui's body was stiff.
"Huh?" The hair dryer suddenly stopped, and Zhou Sui looked up at him in confusion.
Song Qi'an took a pillow from the bed and put it around Zhou Sui's waist. "Don't be so nervous. I'm the one who's drying my hair, not you. I'm the one who should be nervous."
Whether it was because of the pillow or because the two started talking, Zhou Sui's body relaxed a bit, and her back wasn't so stiff anymore.
"You get nervous too?"
She saw that Song Qi'an looked completely calm. No, Zhou Sui took another closer look at him.
"Are you really nervous?" She looked surprised, as if she had discovered something new.
Song Qi'an helped her tidy up the messy hair at the back of her head. "I've never blow-dried anyone's hair before. I'm afraid of being too light or too heavy, or too cold or too hot."
When he was blow-drying his hair, he used his fingers to partially block the airflow, just in case the air was too hot and burned Zhou Sui's scalp.
Zhou Sui noticed this thoughtful little gesture, so she gave Song Qi'an a thumbs up.
"You played very well." The girl's voice was light and soft, and Song Qi'an felt a warm current ripple in his heart when he heard it.
"It's alright." He said modestly, but there was a subtle upturn at the corner of his mouth.
Zhou Sui touched her hair; it was almost dry. She pulled the chair back to make room for Song Qi'an.
"I need to apologize to you for what happened today." Zhou Sui looked at Song Qi'an solemnly. "I didn't discuss our relationship with you beforehand."
Song Qi'an put the hair dryer he had put away on the cabinet next to him and sat down opposite Zhou Sui. "No need to apologize, I just want to know why."
Today, Song Qi'an experienced for the first time what it meant to feel stifled.
"Am I not presentable?" Her voice still carried a hint of grievance, which startled Zhou Sui, who waved her hands repeatedly.
"If someone as outstanding as you can't present something presentable, then that's really unacceptable."
She's got the looks, the figure, and the career—she's incredibly sought after.
Hearing Zhou Sui's praise, Song Qi'an's expression softened slightly, but he didn't speak, waiting for Zhou Sui to say something next.
"I feel that we've only just started, and our relationship isn't that stable yet."
Unlike before, when men and women had to get married after meeting, nowadays people date if they are compatible and break up if they are not.
So even if she's dating Song Qi'an now, it doesn't necessarily mean they'll get married.
Right?
Just as she was thinking this, Zhou Sui noticed that Song Qi'an's expression had changed.
What happened? Did she say something wrong?
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