Chapter 102: Chapter 101: Jing Ye: Ajin, How About Calling Me Daddy?
"Maybe it’s because you’re not very familiar with each other yet," Mason Quinn pondered for a long time and could only come up with this reason.
"When we first met her, she was also ’stay away from strangers’."
However, there was something Mason didn’t say, which was that from the beginning, Claire Green’s attitude towards Julian was always different.
After hearing this, Caleb Green frowned in thought, "Is that so?"
"Well, what else could it be? It can’t be that the little princess dislikes you for no reason."
Have to say, Mason was spot on.
George Xyler couldn’t help but speak up, "Where do you get so much to say?"
Caleb’s situation was completely different from theirs. Knowing Claire’s nature, even if she wasn’t familiar with someone, she wouldn’t dislike them to this extent.
Julian Sia pressed his cigarette out on the table, his voice deep, "Three strikes and you’re out."
After saying that, he casually tossed the cigarette butt aside, stood up, and went into the kitchen. When he came back out, he was holding a glass of milk.
The three of them watched silently as he walked straight upstairs with the milk, not even saying a word.
After a while.
Mason leaned back, staring at the ceiling, and spoke softly, "Is the Boss under her thumb now?"
George Xyler chuckled, his tone somewhat gratified, "I actually think this is good for the Boss. At least he’s living like a human being now."
His words landed.
Mason and Caleb were both taken aback.
Indeed, the former Boss lived every day like a tool, his eyes always calm like a cold pond, without any ripples.
"And Claire has also changed because of the Boss," George Xyler said, resting his head on his hands, speaking leisurely, "Isn’t that what feelings are all about? Being each other’s light."
Upon hearing this.
Mason couldn’t help but turn his head and look, "Whoa, since when did you become an expert on emotions? And those words actually came from you."
"Get lost," George Xyler laughed, cursing him.
...
Julian Sia knocked on Claire Green’s room door with the milk, but after a while, there was no sound, and suddenly, his eyes flashed with a brief anxiety.
He opened the door, only to find the room empty. Suddenly, he heard the sound of water coming from the bathroom, and his hanging heart finally calmed down.
Claire Green got out of the shower wearing a robe, hesitating upon seeing the man sitting on the sofa while she dried her hair.
When did he come in?
"Do brothers usually enter girls’ rooms so directly?"
Claire, just out of the shower, her hair still dripping, her face a notable blush.
Her eyes tilted up, lips thinly curved, with an entirely different vibe around her.
Julian didn’t expect her to come out in just a robe, and his gaze froze for several seconds.
After a while.
He awkwardly turned his head, "I knocked."
Claire didn’t miss his expression, suddenly chuckling softly, walking over directly to sit down, "Brother actually gets shy. How rare."
The sweet fragrance on her wrapped around Julian, and his body stiffened. The usually calm and composed him seemed unsure of where to put his hands.
"Ah Clare, go change first."
His voice turned hoarse, inexplicably sexy and enticing.
"What’s brother thinking? I’m wearing clothes underneath."
Claire propped up her face, her eyes mischievously fixed on him, her voice casual and relaxed.
As she finished speaking.
Julian sighed lightly in his mind; was Clare really at such ease with him?
He turned and placed the milk in Claire’s hands, then took a towel himself.
Claire was about to say something when she saw the cool and dignified man gently help her dry her hair with the towel.
"In the future, don’t come out in a bathrobe."
The man’s voice sounded in her ear, carrying a burning breath.
"Okay."
Claire sipped the milk, hiding the smile at the corner of her lips.
"Remember to blow your hair dry after washing it. You’re not a good sleeper; if you don’t, you’ll wake up with a headache the next day."
Julian touched her hair briefly and stood up to get the hairdryer from the bathroom.
The warm air slowly blew through her hair, making her a bit drowsy.
Claire hadn’t expected him to show this side, and couldn’t help but tease, "Brother, you sound like an old father now."
Julian’s hand paused slightly, then he spoke casually, "Then try calling me Dad."
His voice was deep, carrying a hint of teasing.
"Tsk, have some shame?" Claire laughed lightly, the flutter in her heart seemingly growing heavier.
After that, neither of them spoke, and the only sound in the room was the hairdryer running.
After a while.
Julian felt that the hair in his hands had dried, so he put down the dryer and spoke softly, "Alright, go to sleep."
But he didn’t hear the girl’s response, only heard her steady breathing. Looking down, he found she had fallen asleep at some point.
Looking at the girl’s sleeping face, Julian’s hand lightly pinched her cheek, as if in playful punishment.
Even in a bathrobe, she dared to fall asleep in front of him, wasn’t she afraid he might do something?
Carefully placing Claire on the bed, Julian’s eyes showed warmth as he gazed at her for a moment before slowly leaving.
...
"Claire, have you written the self-reflection?"
Early the next morning, John Sinclair saw her sauntering along from afar and quickly caught up.
"What self-reflection?" Claire’s eyes showed a trace of tiredness, speaking lazily.
John gave her a look of disbelief, "The self-reflection the principal asked for."
"Oh, just copy and paste it," Claire said casually.
John was stunned; how gutsy of her to just copy and paste a reflection.
"Hey, can I borrow it to copy mine too? I’ve never written a reflection in my life."
Upon hearing this.
Claire glanced at him sideways with evident disdain in her eyes.
As if saying: never written a reflection and still the school tyrant?
Eventually, John and the others copied Claire’s reflection, resulting in four identical reflections appearing on Thomas Ziegler’s desk, differing only in handwriting.
Gazing at the identically emoji-filled reflections in front of him, Thomas Ziegler’s mouth twitched sharply.
These days, besides copying homework, copying exams, and copying answers, now people even copy reflections.
But even copying a reflection requires a bit of effort, doesn’t it? Without even guessing, he could tell who the original was just from the attitude.
In the classroom.
Claire had just finished a round of games with her friends when a text message arrived.
[K, the song goes online tomorrow, and we’re planning to release the MV the day after.]
Seeing the content, she raised an eyebrow slightly; the post-production speed was quite good.
[Okay.]
Meanwhile, Weibo was buzzing over the news of Edward Monroe’s new song release.
[Edward Monroe: It’s been a year since my last song. Tomorrow, a brand new song with completely different style and arrangement will meet everyone at noon.]
The comments under his Weibo were varied, with all kinds of sarcasm.
[How dare the disfigured monster release a new song, what, ran out of money?]
[Since you’re disfigured, you should gracefully retire. Why come out to show off?]
[As a neutral observer, you keyboard warriors are too much. So what if someone is disfigured? Which law states a disfigured celebrity can’t sing?]
[Supporting the above comment, I’ve been annoyed by these haters for too long. The guy singing isn’t eating your family’s rice. If you don’t like it, just don’t listen.]