Quick Wear: Love still depends on two love brains

At half past six in the morning, the spiral staircase of the villa was still immersed in the dim light of morning mist. As Quan Jiuxi walked down in soft-soled slippers, the wooden steps made a slight creaking sound.

The floor-to-ceiling window in the living room was half open, and the wind carrying the scent of dew and osmanthus came in. She saw the scene downstairs when she turned the corner on the second floor.

Jiang Ya stood beside a long European-style table. The hem of her off-white dress was slightly wrinkled. A silver-gray suitcase stood at her feet, and the wheels left tiny scratches on the marble floor.

Mo Qinghan sat in the high-back chair opposite, holding the bone china coffee cup in his fingertips. The hot steam rising from the rim of the cup blurred the outline of his cold and hard profile.

The sunlight slanted down on his eyelashes, casting a small shadow, and even his thin lips, which were tightly pursed when he lowered his eyes, looked like lines carefully polished by a sculptor.

"Good morning." Quan Jiuxi held the handrail of the stairs, his voice still slightly hoarse from just waking up.

Jiang Ya turned around suddenly, and her pearl earrings flickered in the morning light.

She obviously didn't expect Quan Jiuxi to get up so early, and her hands unconsciously twisted the hem of her skirt: "Well, I'm leaving."

The ending tone is a little trembling, like a feather crushed by the wind.

Quan Jiuxi's eyes swept over the customs lock of the suitcase.

It was a limited edition luxury item from last year, and it didn't match Jiang Ya's tense shoulders at the moment.

She walked down the last two steps. The morning light fell on her plain face, making her almond-shaped eyes look particularly bright. "What do you mean, Auntie?"

Jiang Ya's face suddenly turned red, as if she had been hurt.

Yesterday, my mother's phone call almost roared through the receiver. The words "shameless" and "disgrace to the Jiang family" were still buzzing in my ears.

She gripped the suitcase handle tightly, her knuckles turning white. "Well, she said... let me go back to the Jiang family."

Quan Jiuxi nodded, and her long hair slid to her shoulders as she moved: "Okay."

The tone was as calm as if he was saying that the weather was nice today.

Jiang Ya opened her mouth, but a breath got stuck in her throat.

She secretly glanced at Mo Qinghan, who was still drinking coffee. The sound of the silver spoon tapping on the bottom of the cup sounded particularly harsh at this moment.

She had stood like this just now, and had said word by word that she wanted to leave, and the response she received was also two words - "Yeah."

Do these two people take her seriously?

Jiang Ya's nose suddenly felt a little sore, and her eyes fell on Quan Jiuxi's pair of white canvas shoes.

She took a deep breath, the sourness in her chest mixed with guilt surged up: "I'm sorry for disturbing you these days."

As she said this, her eyes swept over the broken crystal glass on the coffee table.

She smashed it the day before yesterday when she lost her temper, and it's still there, like a silent mockery.

Quan Jiuxi raised her eyebrows, and the morning light just fell on her brow bone, causing a slight smile to appear on her face.

Is the young lady...turning over a new leaf?

"It's okay." Quan Jiuxi interrupted her and walked to the sideboard to get a piece of toast.

Mo Qinghan finally put down the coffee cup, and the bottom of the cup made a slight sound when it hit the table.

He raised his eyes to look at Quan Jiuxi, his gaze as deep as a pool: "There is freshly squeezed orange juice in the refrigerator."

Quan Jiuxi opened the refrigerator door, and water droplets from the glass bottle dripped onto the back of her hand. The cold touch made her sober up a little.

She poured two glasses of orange juice and pushed one to Mo Qinghan. Her fingertips accidentally brushed against his. His body temperature was lower than that of an ordinary person, like the coolness of jade.

Jiang Ya looked at this scene and suddenly felt like a superfluous decoration.

She pulled up the suitcase suddenly, and the sound of the wheels scraping against the ground broke the silence of the living room: "Then I'm leaving."

No one answered.

She bit her lip, stepped heavily on the mat in the entrance hall, and almost tripped over her high heels when changing shoes.

The moment her hand rested on the door handle, she couldn't help but look back.

Mo Qinghan was looking at Quan Jiuxi with a concentration in his eyes that she had never seen before, while Quan Jiuxi was lowering his head and tearing the edge of toast, his profile as soft as a watercolor painting in the morning light.

With a bang, the door closed.

The villa suddenly became quiet, with only the sound of Quan Jiuxi chewing toast and the occasional rustling of Mo Qinghan flipping through magazines.

The sunlight climbed over the high-legged flower stand, casting diamond-shaped spots of light on the Persian carpet, and the fragrance of osmanthus in the air seemed to be stronger.

Mo Qinghan's gaze passed over the edge of the newspaper and fell on Quan Jiuxi.

She was wearing a light gray sweater today, the collar of which hung loosely on her collarbone, revealing a small piece of fair skin.

She ate very quietly, with her eyelashes drooping, like a butterfly with its wings folded.

Why is it special to her?

This question troubled him all night.

Quan Jiuxi noticed his gaze and raised his head, with toast still in his mouth and his cheeks slightly puffed: "What's wrong?"

The doubt in his eyes was like cotton soaked in water, full and clear.

It's this look.

Mo Qinghan's heart seemed to be gently hit by something.

He had seen too many looks - flattering, fearful, greedy, even his powerful father would be frightened in front of him.

But in Quan Jiuxi's eyes, there was only pure curiosity and occasional cunning, but no fear.

When she raised her eyebrows at Jiang Ya just now, there was clearly mischief in her eyes;

Now that he was staring at her, she showed this confused look again, like a little fox pretending to be well-behaved.

Mo Qinghan's lips curled up almost imperceptibly, the arc as shallow as ripples on the water. He closed the newspaper, and the metal buckle made a slight sound:

"nothing."

Quan Jiuxi shrugged, stuffed the last bite of toast into his mouth, picked up his schoolbag and said, "I'm going to school."

"I'll go with you." Mo Qinghan suddenly spoke.

Quan Jiuxi was stunned for a moment, then glanced at the wall clock. It was 7:15, an hour and a half before Mo Qinghan usually left the house. She blinked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Mo Qinghan stood up, "I'll accompany you."

Quan Jiuxi didn't ask any more questions. When he opened the door, the morning light poured in like a tide, flooding over the overlapping shadows of the two people.