A vein throbbed on the man's temple. He snapped, "How audacious!"
Zhi Wan pouted, bored. She pulled the covers over herself and lay back down on the bed. "So prim and proper. In that case, don't come looking for me anymore."
"Of course," the man replied in a low voice.
Zhi Wan huffed and pulled the covers over her head.
After a moment, she pulled the covers back again to see if the man was still there. She found him sitting at her desk, flipping through something.
Thinking of her paintings, Zhi Wan shrieked and scrambled out of bed.
"Don't you dare go through my things!"
She threw her entire body onto the desk, pinning all her paintings underneath her.
The man watched her coolly. With a long finger, he flicked the painting he was holding and said with a half-smile, "Do you make a living from your art, miss?"
Only then did Zhi Wan see that he was still holding one of her paintings.
