6:00 a.m.
Zhou Luchen stepped out, a fine black suit of exquisite material draped over his arm.
"Are you here to play thief, Second Master Zhou?"
Sun Qiyan was sitting by the main gate eating a frozen pear, the tiny wooden chair groaning under the weight of the thirty-year-old man. He looked up to see Second Master Zhou, impeccably dressed. His neat and dignified attire still couldn't hide his inherently rakish charm.
Sun Qiyan chuckled softly. "So properly dressed, I almost didn't recognize you."
Zhou Luchen glanced at him, his eyes unintentionally falling on a conspicuous red string on Sun Qiyan's pear-holding wrist. Ordinarily, his wrist was bare—clean and unadorned.
"Ever since the tea plantation, you've seemed to have an issue with me," Zhou Luchen replied in a measured tone.
