"Coward."
In the master bedroom of Thornheart Garden, Qing Lan had just finished her shower and was happily making the bed when she froze at the word, turning to see Mi Die leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, half mocking, half amused. Qing Lan's cheeks and ears turned red as she stammered,
"Coward, what do you mean coward, I'm not a coward, this isn't being scared, this is reading the situation, seizing the moment, moving as smoothly as flowing water…"
This editor-in-chief gig really wasn't for nothing—Qing Lan's literary chops had visibly leveled up.
"You are a coward," Mi Die said, "Things that could be made clear with one sentence—you have to beat around the bush and tiptoe. If I hadn't pushed you, you'd still be out in the rain, all moved by yourself and for yourself."
Qing Lan argued, "What do you know—"
