Shenghai, a certain villa
"Xiao Ning, aren't you really disappointed about not landing that role?" Zhang Shuya wrapped her arm around Lan Yening's neck, her big, watery eyes brimming with sympathy as she gazed at him.
Lan Yening had just returned from recording a variety show at 3 a.m. yesterday. Afterward, Zhang Shuya, who missed him, had been endlessly preoccupying him until morning. Now, he felt physically drained and wasn't in the mood to talk.
Zhang Shuya noticed his silence for quite a while and shook Lan Yening's shoulders. "Xiao Ning, I'm talking to you. Are you still dwelling on what happened with that drama?"
Lan Yening pulled himself together and smiled, "No, it's all in the past now."
"Liar."
"No really, it's just... I was noticing how much softer your skin looks lately and wondering if you've been using some secret beauty product."
Even Lan Yening himself felt nauseated by his own words.
