"Oh, you're looking at these again, aren't you? You've been holding this book whenever you have time this month. I'm not sure whether you're reading it or thinking about the author."
Gracie's voice carried a hint of playful complaint and jealousy, her tone rising slightly at the end, sounding like a mildly suspicious cat.
She placed the orange juice heavily on the wooden tea stand next to Tang Long, the glass cup colliding with the table, producing a crisp sound. The juice splashed out, scattered across the lush green lawn.
Tang Long looked up, his gaze meeting Gracie's eyes, which held a trace of melancholy. His mouth involuntarily lifted slightly, revealing a tender yet slightly helpless smile.
He thought to himself, "After all these years, her personality hasn't changed at all—still the girl who gets jealous easily and has her little temper."
