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Zheng Mengni quickly returned to her usual self, maintaining a gentle and captivating smile on her face. The age difference and life experiences made the subtle changes in her demeanor impossible to hide from Ye Bing, who could see through her with remarkable clarity. Moreover, Ye Bing, having navigated the treacherous waters of power and manipulation in the real world, harbored countless schemes and calculations in her heart.
Zheng Mengni spoke softly, her tone delicate as she asked, "Your brother seems very interested in painting."
Ye Bing chuckled lightly, "He's just an amateur."
"No," Zheng Mengni shook her head, her eyes shimmering with envy.
Ye Bing raised an eyebrow, unconcerned. "How do you know he's not?"
Understanding art is not something Ye Siqian possesses. Not only does he lack understanding, but he is utterly clueless. Every word he spoke in front of Zheng Yicheng was something Ye Bing had taught him beforehand.
Ye Siqian had put in a lot of effort, memorizing everything for days. It wasn't just about memorization; Ye Bing had also dragged him into practical exercises. She played the role of Zheng Yicheng, imagining what the prey would actually say and teaching Ye Siqian the questions and answers line by line.
After days of hard practice, the results were evident. He performed quite convincingly. Ye Bing observed Zheng Yicheng's reactions and unexpectedly gave Ye Siqian a score of ninety.
However, no matter how well an outsider pretends, there will always be flaws. But if he could fool Zheng Yicheng even a little, it showed that Ye Siqian had some skill.
Ye Bing quietly fixed her gaze on Zheng Mengni's face. She had lowered her head at some point, her dark, curled eyelashes fluttering like fans, casting faint shadows under the light. She stared blankly at her beautiful high heels, her small hands neatly clasped behind her back. Her quiet demeanor made it hard to disturb her.
Then Zheng Mengni spoke softly, "Your brother is indeed very capable; I've never seen Dad admire anyone like this before."
Ye Bing was taken aback. Although Ye Siqian had completed his task exceptionally well and they had indeed achieved their goals, she suddenly felt a twinge of guilt.
Zheng Mengni looked wronged, as if she had been bullied, but Ye Bing thought to himself that this girl was just too jealous; there was no one else to blame.
Ye Bing, rarely patient, said, "It was just a lucky coincidence, like a blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse. Your father appreciates you the most."
Zheng Mengni glared at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She bit her delicate, full pink lips and protested softly, "My dad is not a dead mouse."
Ye Bing maintained his composure, a smile that was utterly insincere on his face. "Hmm."
Just as he finished speaking, he felt a cool touch on his wrist. Ye Bing paused for a moment, caught off guard.
Then, a hand so white it almost dazzled him gently grasped his own. The stark contrast between the warm and cool tones was striking. He himself was particularly pale, but having spent all day running around in this body without sunscreen, he had tanned slightly over the summer.
The air around him was filled with a faint scent of jasmine, warm and fresh—a fragrance that was bold yet not monotonous.
Ye Bing looked up and noticed that Zheng Mengni was now very close to him.
Her finely arched brows were slightly furrowed, and her luminous eyes shimmered with helplessness. She gazed directly at him without any hint of offense; their silent exchange could easily touch the softest parts of each other's hearts.
However, Ye Bing quickly regained his usual demeanor, his perceptive gaze meeting Zheng Mengni's, reflecting the softness in her expression.
"Um... can you do me a favor?" Zheng Mengni asked, her cheeks flushed and one hand hidden behind her back, feeling somewhat shy.
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