"Throw away what you have in your hands." Ye Haofan ordered, his face cold, lest she become too agitated and hurt herself.
"I don't have anything in my hands." Han Yingying kept her hands behind her back, clutching the toothbrush tightly, her eyes warily watching Ye Haofan, ready to fight desperately at any moment.
"I promise, I won't touch you." Ye Haofan's expression became even more unappealing, yet he patiently said this to her.
"I want a room to myself."
"Fine."
"Really?" Han Yingying looked at him suspiciously. Was he really that easy to talk to?
A flicker of helplessness crossed his eyes as Ye Haofan pointed to a door, "This is a suite, next door is your room. I don't make it a habit to share a room with women, nor do I enjoy forcing them to."
Looking in the direction he was pointing, Han Yingying realized that she had been completely oblivious of that door's existence this whole time.
