Lunch was pleasant enough, with scenic views and the kind of satisfaction that only came after sweating under the sun. But if anyone were to ask An Ning, Zhao Guangyao probably felt otherwise.
There had been a flicker of panic on his face the moment Sun Qiaolian mentioned his "farming background," and the little melon had promptly confirmed what she already suspected.
The little melon drifted closer, voice dripping with gossipy delight. "Host, host, new melon just dropped."
An Ning lifted her cup slightly, as if to hide her smile. "Go on."
"Zhao Guangyao," the little melon began dramatically, "is the treasured youngest son of his family. His parents saved every spare cent for him, even sent him to live with his uncle in town so he could study and escape rural life."
An Ning hummed, not particularly surprised.
"But," the little melon continued, spinning in a slow circle, "he also has three older sisters. Three!"
He lowered his voice, as though delivering forbidden lore.
