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Fang Yin politely gestured for her to come over. Zhou Yingying glanced in his direction and saw a young girl with the latest trendy curls, fair-skinned and petite, holding a handbag. The girl gave him a slight nod before walking inside.
Why does it seem like he’s so happy?
Zhou Yingying felt a surge of irritation. She picked up her fork, not even bothering to cut the remaining half of her steak, and forcefully stabbed it before swallowing it whole.
Her hands gripped the fork tightly, her arm muscles tensing slightly, and anger shone in her eyes.
Across from her, Yan Nuo's mouth formed an "O" shape as he stared at Zhou Yingying, nearly dropping the spoon from his hand.
In the distance, Fang Yin's voice floated over: "Miss Su, what are your hobbies... Ah... piano? That suits you very well, Miss Su... You truly are a refined young lady..."
... A refined young lady.
... A refined young lady! A refined young lady!
Those four words exploded in Zhou Yingying's mind. With a sudden burst of strength, she bent the fork in her hand. Damn that Fang Yin! Why bring up being a refined young lady for no reason?
What’s wrong with not being a refined young lady?
Does not being a refined young lady mean she can’t get married?
Zhou Yingying clutched the bent fork tightly, her knuckles turning white as the muscles in her face twitched slightly from anger.
By the time Zhou Yingying realized what was happening, she found herself standing beside Fang Yin's table, glaring fiercely at him. Fang Yin's face turned pale upon seeing her, and he quickly tried to comfort Su Muyao, who was sitting across from him and looked frightened. "This is our boss at Xuanwu Gate, Master Zhou's daughter. She's quite the fighter. Don't let her strong appearance fool you; she's actually a good person and takes care of me... although she has trouble finding a husband..."
Fang Yin slightly turned to the side, opening his arms as if to shield Su Muyao, his eyes warily watching Zhou Yingying.
Whatever else Fang Yin said went in one ear and out the other for Zhou Yingying. The phrases "young lady," "so strong," and "good person" buzzed in her mind. She felt insulted as a woman from Greater Shanghai. When she snapped back to reality, she realized she had overturned their dining table, silver cutlery scattered everywhere, and her high heels had left several marks on the white tablecloth. Su Muyao looked horrified beside her.
Yan Nuo was even paler. Finally, Zhou Yingying's gaze landed on Fang Yin's face, where veins were visibly throbbing at his temples, his fists clenched tightly, creaking with tension.
Zhou Yingying swept her arms violently, knocking everything off the table onto the floor, her body trembling slightly with anger.
She knew she had caused trouble.
"Do you have any sense at all?!" Fang Yin stepped forward angrily, scolding her without mercy. "Is this how you behave?! Don't think that just because the leader dotes on you that you can get away with anything! Do you think someone will always clean up your mess?!"
Fang Yin frowned deeply, his eyes wide open as he pointed at Zhou Yingying with a stern voice.
Zhou Yingying stared blankly at him; it was the first time she had seen Fang Yin so furious. In the past, when she bullied him, he never fought back or spoke up. Now he was scolding her in public over a pretentious lady. She glanced at Su Muyao beside her, who was cowering behind Fang Yin like a frightened bird.
Zhou Yingying's lips trembled slightly, a hint of grievance flashing in her eyes.
Her throat felt tight, and tears were about to spill—despite not having cried since she was five years old. She bit her lip, feeling everything blur before her eyes. Without even looking, she raised her fist and swung it toward Fang Yin with fierce determination.
Fang Yin instinctively jumped aside, thinking Zhou Yingying would maintain her balance. However, in her fury, she stumbled forward instead.
Everyone saw Miss Zhou barely manage to touch the ground with the tip of her right foot before a crisp "crack" echoed — Zhou Yingying's right foot had fractured.
Her body leaned forward, a sharp pain radiating from her right foot, and a look of agony crossed her face as cold sweat beaded on her forehead.
"Well..." Fang Yin pondered for a moment and said, "It's not that bad, just not very much like a typical girl."
"… A typical girl, like Su Muyao?"
"… I suppose so."
Zhou Yingying felt a pang of sadness. She recalled how Fang Yin preferred quiet girls, like Su Muyao, rather than those who would flip tables or glare fiercely with hands on their hips.
She lowered her head, her gaze dimmed, and her hands hung limply by her sides.
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