22 Chasing a Man Down the Stree (2/2)

”Why are you chasing?”

”I like it!”

”I'm practicing footwork!”

”Pfff–” Someone let out a stifled laugh in reaction to their speedy squabble, triggering a death glare, which was made more terrifying by her exquisite yet blade-like brows, from the young lady.

Nevertheless, as she was still too young, she appeared more adorable than murderous.

Finding it funny, other diners chimed in, ”Hey, little lady, there must be a reason why you like chasing him.”

”Yeah. In Taiyuan, this is the first time a lady's chasing after a man.”

”Yes, I shall be the first, then,” she declared arrogantly, raising her chin up. ”'Go for the best, if you're going for anyone because those behind are all lousy melons,' my father always says.” She pointed at Zhan Beiye, laughing, ”It's him I'm going after. I want him to be my man.”

Her confidence left everyone in a brief state of shock and then a fit of laughter. Diners at the back squeezed forward to get a clearer view of the unconventionally assertive lady and also the lucky man.

Meng Fuyao awed at the good compatibility between this bickering pair when she caught a glimpse of Yao Xun, sneaking into the winehouse. She made a gesture, which Yao Xun noticed, and saw his expression change instantly while shaking his head.

Meng Fuyao stared blankly at the girl. She appeared to be a Fufeng citizen, and Meng Fuyao had wanted Yao Xun to check if she had a medal on her. Yet, he seemed afraid of her and dared not make any move.

After some thought, Meng Fuyao waited for a suitable time to withdraw. Getting restless and annoyed by the chasing game, Zhan Beiye spoke up, ”Ya Lanzhu, has your father also mentioned that you have to be a man's, first woman?”

”Yeah.”

”Great,” Zhan Beiye gave a crafty smile. With this handsome smile, his intimidating aura was momentarily swept away, revealing a more humane and warm disposition.

”Someone's already claimed first place. You're late.”

”Who?” Ya Lanzhu opened her eyes wide and jumped onto the bench, pulling up her sleeves. ”Who is it? Who?”

Not turning around, Zhan Beiye casually drew a circle in midair, which ultimately landed on a certain spot.

”Her!”

Everyone in the winehouse, including Ya Lanzhu, turned their heads simultaneously, before hearing a crash.

Ya Lanzhu narrowed her eyes dangerously.

Yao Xun's jaw dropped, and he couldn't snap out of it even after a long time. Because his mouth was opened for too long, saliva had started dripping down. When he had finally mustered the strength to close his jaw, he took the chance when no one was looking to wipe his mouth clean as well. He then presented a ”good luck” gesture before slipping past her.

Through all that, Zhan Beiye never once turned around.

He had pointed his finger just any old how with a sole intention of picking a female. While entering the restaurant he had already spotted a light red-colored piece of clothing and was immediately certain that it belonged to a woman.

Who that unlucky woman was wasn't any concern of his.

Meng Fuyao stood awkwardly by the stairs while holding onto the railing and giving an embarrassed smile.

Of course, it was understandably discomforting for her to be stared at by a bunch of strangers.

'Zhan Beiye, you bastard, pointing your finger so carelessly in broad daylight.'

Ya Lanzhu sized Meng Fuyao up with dart-like eyes. Meng Fuyao had no ugly makeup on that day. All she had done was smear a little ginger juice onto her face, giving it a slight yellow hue. Her brows stood out, nevertheless, and Ya Lanzhu sniggered after a pause, ”Are you kidding' me? She's clearly suffering from tuberculosis.”

Zhan Beiye crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. ”So? I like it.”

”I'll kill her.”

”You'll still be in second place.”

Ya Lanzhu bounced up with a twist of her slender waist and a swing of her arm, retrieving a small knife with rainbow-colored handle from her back and brandishing it. With the sunlight reflecting off it, the tip of the knife appeared exceptionally brilliant.

She pointed it toward Zhan Beiye, yelling, ”Go, kill that number 1 of yours and I'll take over.”

”Eh, who's his number 1?” A clear voice sounded from the stairway, reclaiming the audience's glances. This time, Meng Fuyao was leaning over the railing and looking at them with raised brows.