Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio  Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Very poor.

Her tuition, Yanyan’s school fees, and their living costs all depended on her meager salary. Each month, she was unable to pay her four credit cards, which she maxed out to balance her finances.

A smile tugged at Shui Miaomiao’s mouth. She said placidly, “I guess a beggar has more money than me.”

“Got it, can you cook?” Shen Mochen asked.

“I can cook,” Shui Miaomiao nodded, an idea flashed through her mind.

She could save even more money if she cooked.

“I still have some ingredients at home,” Shen Mochen said indicatively and drove into a fancy residential area, Purple of Cassius New City, near Shangri La.

Shui Miaomiao looked outside of the window.

The wily hare had three holes to his burrow.

A man like Shen Mochen probably had many lovers.

Shui Miaomiao quirked up the corner of her lips into a sarcastic smile.

Men. They would never be satisfied. Even if they already had a woman who loved them by their sides, they would still fool around with other women. How would they gain true love eventually?

“What is on your mind? We’re here,” Shen Mochen opened the rear door of the car and asked.

“Nah, nothing important,” Shui Miaomiao dodged the question and stepped out of the car.

Shen Mochen glanced at her foot and asked, “Can you walk?”

It felt more dangerous to be carried by him!

Shui Miaomiao smiled and quickly answered, “Sure, I have winged feet, and I’m light as a swallow.”

Shen Mochen was amused. He opened the main gate of the building complex where he lived.

Shui Miaomiao followed him.

When she set her right foot on the floor, she could still feel the pain in her ankle.

Shui Miaomiao frowned.

Shen Mochen’s apartment was on the 19th floor. Luckily there was an elevator.

He opened the door, switched on the light, changed into indoor slippers, and took a pair of brand new male slippers from the shoe rack. He dropped them on the floor and said, “I don’t have women’s slippers. You can wear mine.”

“Oh, thank you,” Shui Miaomiao replied doubtfully.

Shen Mochen did not seem like a man who didn’t have any women.

She changed her shoes and looked around his place.

There was a huge television, an enormous leather couch, a solid wood coffee table in front of the couch, a wine rack beside the TV, and a book rack. This place looked way simpler and more spacious than his other residence at Bo’ai Road.

The similarity between his two residences was that they were both sparkling clean and tidy.

Shen Mochen came out of a room holding a storage box.

He gestured at the couch. “Sit,” he said to Shui Miaomiao, or rather, ordered. But more precisely, he would not take no for an answer.

Shui Miaomiao sat on the couch.

He sat beside her, lifted her right leg, and put her sprained ankle on his lap.

Shui Miaomiao was wearing a skirt. She was worried that she might be flashing her panties, so she tried to move her leg down.

Shen Mochen held her ankle tight and glanced in the direction of her skirt. He then looked away, indifferently, and asked, “You are wearing white panties?”

Shui Miaomiao scowled, she felt ill at ease. A blush crept up her cheeks as she blurted, “Jackass!”

Shen Mochen glared at her intractably. His face darkened a little, “You were moving a lot, I didn’t even try to look at it, I thought you were showing it on purpose.”

The fire scorched Shui Miaomiao cheeks, she lowered her head, frowned and muttered, “I didn’t do that on purpose.”

“Then stop moving, I’m not a saint,” Shen Mochen warned her.

Shui Miaomiao looked away and squeezed her legs together subconsciously but did not dare to move anymore.

Shui Mochen opened the bottle of ointment, poured some on his palm, and smeared it all over his hand. He then held her ankle and started to rub the lotion against it gently.

Shui Miaomiao could only feel the heat that was building up in her ankle. It was warm and felt less painful.