Plunder-Chapter 144 Goodnight Kiss

At that moment, time seemed to freeze.

Chen Yin’s eyes widened like copper bells.

As the elevator closed in front of her, she frantically pulled out her phone from her small bag and dialed Zhang Dewang, the HR Director.

"What’s the background of the new girl, Xu Yayun?"

An unremarkable woman, a janitor—she had nothing to do with Zhou Jin’an, so why had Zhou Jin’an just held her hand?

"A relative from Director He’s hometown, no education, no background."

Zhang Dewang’s voice came through the other end.

Chen Yin didn’t believe it and said, "Send me her resume."

A minute later, she received the resume.

High school dropout, divorced, with a work history that was less than impressive.

Yet how did such an unimpressive woman catch Zhou Jin’an’s eye?

In the elevator.

Qiao En forcefully shook off Zhou Jin’an’s large hand.

She seemed angry, chiding him, "I warned you, don’t touch me in front of others, don’t act childish. If I didn’t ask you to speak, keep your mouth shut. Did you hear me?"

She was fierce, like a tigress.

Cheng Lu glanced at Qiao En, pretended not to see, and shifted his gaze elsewhere.

"Oh, I understand."

Zhou Jin’an reluctantly responded.

"Understanding isn’t enough, you need to keep it in mind. Otherwise, you’ll not only ruin yourself but drag all of us down with you, got it?"

She pressed him aggressively.

Zhou Jin’an looked like a child who had done something wrong, his eyelids drooping instantly.

Facing the assertive Qiao En, he didn’t retort.

"I remember now, I won’t mess up again."

Perhaps realizing that Qiao En was upset, he coaxed in a stammering voice, "Sister Yun, I know I was wrong, please don’t be mad at me, okay? I promise, I’ll listen obediently to you and Brother Cheng Lu from now on."

"Mmm."

Qiao En responded in a muffled voice.

The elevator suddenly became quiet.

The three of them stood there, each with their gaze fixed on different spots, none of them speaking.

Qiao En didn’t know why she had gotten so angry just then.

But she was indeed angry.

Zhou Jin’an used to be a cautious person; he would never expose his vulnerabilities to others.

But just now, that person had...

Every time Qiao En thought of Chen Yin’s widened eyes, a cloud of darkness shadowed her heart.

She didn’t want anyone to notice her, but Zhou Jin’an had just made a mistake.

"Should we tell Secretary Chen about Director Zhou’s situation?"

As the elevator was about to open, Qiao En looked at Cheng Lu.

His eyes profound, he replied, "The fewer people who know about this, the better."

Clearly, he didn’t trust Chen Yin.

Leaving the Nanchen Building, they got into a Maybach.

Qiao En and Zhou Jin’an sat in the back, her gaze fixed on the window while his eyes lingered on her.

"Sister Yun, what happened to the scar on your forehead? Does it hurt?"

As Zhou Jin’an spoke, he reached out to touch the scar on her forehead.

Qiao En quickly dodged, brushing her bangs to fully cover the scar.

"It’s nothing."

"Oh."

Zhou Jin’an withdrew his hand, his voice stretching low, but his gaze unintentionally drifted toward the scar on her forehead.

The car entered Chu Garden, Cheng Lu pushing Zhou Jin’an in a wheelchair inside.

Sister Rong was not around, leaving just the three of them in the large house.

"I’ll go tidy up the room for you."

As Cheng Lu said this and was about to go upstairs, Qiao En stopped him.

"No need, it’s better I go back tonight."

On the way here, she had made up her mind.

She came back with a purpose, and she couldn’t let Zhou Jin’an’s incident disrupt her plans.

"Going back and forth will be hard," Cheng Lu tried to persuade her.

"It’s okay, I’m used to it."

Qiao En insisted, so Cheng Lu didn’t press further.

He ordered takeout; the roast chicken was delivered quickly.

At the dining table, Zhou Jin’an tore off a chicken leg and put it in Qiao En’s bowl.

"Sister Yun, I gave you the tastiest chicken leg. Cheer up, okay?"

After saying this, he tore off another one for Cheng Lu.

"Brother Cheng Lu, this one’s for you."

Cheng Lu smiled, patted Zhou Jin’an’s shoulder and said, "Brother Cheng Lu doesn’t like chicken legs. You eat it."

He returned the chicken leg to Zhou Jin’an.

Zhou Jin’an could barely hide his joy, his eyes twinkling childishly as he wolfed down the chicken leg.

"I’m not eating either, it’s yours."

Qiao En also returned her chicken leg to Zhou Jin’an.

With his mouth full, he said, "You’re not eating? This chicken is so delicious."

Children always have a possessive instinct over food, and with both Cheng Lu and Qiao En giving him their chicken legs, he ate even more joyously.

At that moment, Qiao En had the illusion that Zhou Jin’an had really become an eight-year-old child.

They had ordered a lot of takeout, but Zhou Jin’an wouldn’t eat any of it; he single-handedly devoured an entire roast chicken.

In the past, Qiao En couldn’t have imagined this.

After dinner, Cheng Lu put on a cartoon for him.

He leaned on the sofa, thoroughly enjoying himself.

Qiao En remembered that Zhou Jin’an was someone who seldom watched TV, apart from financial reports. He didn’t keep up with current events, let alone follow dramas or movies.

While Cheng Lu was busy in the study with work, Qiao En stayed in the living room with Zhou Jin’an, watching the cartoon.

"Sister Rong, I want some water, the flavored kind."

Zhou Jin’an began to order her around again.

Qiao En stood up, went into the kitchen, boiled some water, and poured a cup for Zhou Jin’an.

His brows immediately knitted together like worms, "I don’t want boiled water, I want a drink."

"Cheng Lu, brother, I want a drink."

He suddenly shouted toward the study, straining his voice.

Qiao En stared at him coldly and snapped, "You’re being naughty again, aren’t you?"

Zhou Jin’an puffed his cheeks, filled with frustration, and kept silent.

The two of them sat quietly, their gaze entirely fixed on the cartoon.

The story of Bald Qiang and the two bears was monotonous and dull.

But soon, Zhou Jin’an was engrossed.

When the bears made a fool of Bald Qiang, he actually burst out laughing.

"Do you really not remember anything?"

Out of the blue, Qiao En asked.

Zhou Jin’an was stunned, looking at Qiao En with a bewildered expression, "Sister Rong, what don’t I remember?"

He didn’t remember.

He didn’t remember anything.

He didn’t even remember her.

"It’s nothing."

Qiao En sighed in disappointment.

It was perhaps for the best that he didn’t remember.

After a while, she stood up and went to the fridge to fetch a Coke that Cheng Lu had recently bought for him.

The old Zhou Jin’an would have never drunk a carbonated beverage.

Zhou Jin’an took the drink and again flashed a brilliant smile.

"Sister Rong, you’re really nice."

He reached out his hand, hooked it around Qiao En’s neck, and gave her cheek a quick kiss.

Qiao En was stunned.

The place where he had kissed her felt scorching hot, as if on fire.

He moved swiftly, kissed her, and immediately returned to his original position.

As if nothing had happened, he clutched the can of Coke to his mouth, his eyes vividly fixed on the cartoon.

"Sister Rong, look, Bald Qiang is about to get beaten up again."

Seeing the thrilling scene, Zhou Jin’an exclaimed excitedly.

Qiao En repetitively reassured herself in her mind.

He’s just an eight-year-old child, don’t overthink it, don’t overthink it.

They watched three episodes of the cartoon, and it was half-past nine.

"You should go to bed now."

Qiao En said, grabbing the remote control and turning off the TV.

Zhou Jin’an, reluctant to end, wanted to throw a tantrum, but upon meeting Qiao En’s cold and firm eyes, he didn’t dare.

"Then you need to tell me a bedtime story."

He started to set conditions.

"How old are you? You still need bedtime stories?"

Qiao En refused.

Zhou Jin’an’s lips pouted high, "I’m only eight years old, what’s wrong with bedtime stories? Cheng Lu, brother, always told me them before. You won’t let me watch cartoons or tell me bedtime stories. I won’t be able to sleep, I’m scared, I’m afraid those people will come harm me at night..."

His voice was soft, muttering incessantly.

Seeing his pitiful look, Qiao En’s resolve softened.

"Alright, I’ll tell you a bedtime story. But, just one story, and you have to sleep."

In the bedroom.

Zhou Jin’an curled up in the bed.

Qiao En sat on the edge of the bed, holding a collection of fairy tales, trying her best to make the story lively and vivid.

Zhou Jin’an listened intently, his eyes glittering, not at all looking like he was ready to sleep.

The story was brief, and soon it was over.

"Alright, you should sleep now."

She stood up to leave.

But Zhou Jin’an clung to her sleeve, "I want a goodnight kiss."

Saying so, he presented half of his face to Qiao En.

Qiao En took a deep breath.

Feeling helpless, she finally gave in.

She bent down, pressed her face to his, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

But just as she was about to stand up, Zhou Jin’an kissed her back.

"Goodnight, Sister Rong."