Ji Mo was originally squinting his eyes, but when he heard her speak, he looked up in confusion.
"What?!"
Ye Qiao was too lazy to repeat herself and simply reached out, grabbing the collar of his shirt.
The hair draped over her was a bit of trouble, so before tidying things up, she had casually used an unused chopstick to clip her hair behind her head, with a few strands falling beside her ear, sticking to her cheek flushed and especially reddish from alcohol.
From Ji Mo's angle, her hair and face were painted gold by the floor lamp beside the bed, and as if possessed, he lifted his hand to tuck those strands behind her ear, his fingers not moving away but staying on her cheek.
Feeling his movement, Ye Qiao stiffened.
"Director Ji?!"
"Ye Qiao!" Ji Mo looked at her with somewhat blurry eyes, "You're actually quite a nice person."
"Am I?"
Ye Qiao chuckled to herself.
This guy must be drunk, saying such things out of the blue.
"Yeah, straightforward, enthusiastic..."
