Chapter 145: Wear a Skirt for Me to See

Wen Ling held back her curiosity, waiting until everyone else left.

"What photo? I want to see it."

Wen Ling felt something was off; that night when she stayed at Feng Qi Yuan, Ning Qing showed her many photos of Zhou Yinhe as a child, but did not show her the photo Zhou Zhaoning had mentioned.

Zhou Yinhe said nothing, broke free of Wen Ling's hand and wanted to go upstairs.

Wen Ling wouldn't let him get away, following him step for step; seeing him enter the bathroom, she followed him in.

"Are you sure you want to look here?" Zhou Yinhe rested his hand on his pants, helplessly looking at Wen Ling.

"Why can't I look? It's not like I haven't seen it before." Wen Ling blinked her eyes.

Zhou Yinhe slowly nodded a few times, "Alright, then look."

After saying that, he kept his eyes on Wen Ling's reaction while moving his fingers a few times, but Wen Ling stared at the spot she had looked at, showing no shyness or restraint.

Zhou Yinhe had no choice but to withdraw his gaze, grabbed some paper and wiped a few times, then went around Wen Ling to the sink to wash his hands; only then did Wen Ling raise her hand and hug him.

"Let me see, please—I'm really curious; if I don't get to see it, I won't be able to sleep tonight."

She rarely acted coquettish, but now, for her curiosity, she pulled out all the stops.

After drying his hands, Zhou Yinhe turned, lowered his gaze to look at her, and asked, "Are you sure you want to look?"

Wen Ling nodded seriously and firmly; Zhou Yinhe laughed in exasperation, had no choice but to take her hand and leave the bathroom, then picked up his phone and began scrolling through his mother's Moments.

When that photo was posted to Moments back then, even Ning Qing herself forgot about it, but anyone who saw it could never forget.

Qi Zhan and the others would occasionally pull out the photo to mock him, but Zhou Yinhe felt it didn't matter—who hasn't done something embarrassing as a child?

Today, when Zhou Zhaoning and Qi Zhan brought it up, he finally felt something was off.

Having found it, Zhou Yinhe handed the phone to Wen Ling.

Wen Ling stared wide-eyed for a long time, occasionally glancing up at Zhou Yinhe sitting beside her.

Her eyes held no mockery, only astonishment; Wen Ling moved her fingers, forwarded the photo to herself, then returned the phone to Zhou Yinhe.

She leaned in, cupping Zhou Yinhe's face, liking him more and more as she looked, and praised, "Why are you shy to let me look? You're obviously so handsome."

"A boy wearing a skirt—don't you find that strange?" Zhou Yinhe didn't want to look at her, turning his face so his ears showed a bit of red.

"What's so strange about that?" Wen Ling insisted on meeting his gaze, turning his face to examine his features closely.

A thought struck her, and she proposed, "Can you wear a skirt for me to see right now?"

"???" Zhou Yinhe could only think it unbelievable, "What did you say?"

Wen Ling let go of Zhou Yinhe, walked to the wardrobe, and pulled out a loose-fitting skirt from her closet, which was gradually filling with skirts.

This skirt was especially large; when she bought it a few days ago, she hadn't considered that aspect—she only liked how it looked on international supermodels, so she ordered one; when she received it and tried it on, Zhou Yinhe mocked her, so she put the skirt in the closet as mere decoration.

At this moment, it actually came in handy.

Zhou Yinhe looked at the skirt Wen Ling handed him with a pleading little look, took a step back, not wanting to accept it.

Wen Ling, however, promised, "I swear I'll only take a photo for my own enjoyment, definitely won't share it; as long as you wear it for me to see, I'll do whatever you say tonight—oh, no, for the whole coming week; I promise not to refuse and not to argue with you."

She feared Zhou Yinhe would think she was deceiving him, so she raised her hand and swore solemnly, "I swear that if I break what I just said, I'll gain twenty pounds and never be able to lose it."

Zhou Yinhe stared at her in silence, motionless.

Wen Ling stepped forward, hung the skirt on his wrist, and pleaded pitifully, "Please, wear it for me to see."

"What you just said—are you serious?"

Wen Ling nodded heavily; Zhou Yinhe took the skirt, resolutely walked into the bathroom, and locked the door from inside.

Wen Ling rubbed her hands standing at the doorway, her phone already set to camera mode, ready to snap a picture at any moment.

The skirt was large and loose on Wen Ling, even a bit long, but on Zhou Yinhe it was tight and a bit short.

As Zhou Yinhe awkwardly walked out of the bathroom, pulling at the collar, he said, "These shoulders and collar are really tight."

Wen Ling stood frozen, staring at him, swallowed a mouthful of saliva, then raised her phone and pressed the shutter repeatedly.

"Don't let it get out." Zhou Yinhe worriedly warned her; Wen Ling hummed in agreement, her steps difficult as she moved a few steps, circling around Zhou Yinhe.

"You're so beautiful……" Wen Ling whispered, "It's unfair—why are you, a man, this beautiful?"

Zhou Yinhe gave a slight smile, not minding her using feminine praise on him, raised his hand and pulled Wen Ling into his embrace, then walked together toward the bed.

Throughout, he was mischievous, tearing the skirt's collar so it no longer constricted him, yet the skirt remained on him.

Wen Ling finally regretted it, stammering, "Can you not wear it……"

It really is strange, especially strangely strange.

"No." Zhou Yinhe flatly refused.

Wen Ling was practically on the verge of tears but couldn't cry; finally, out of breath, she said, "You're terrible."

"Am I as bad as you?" Zhou Yinhe stood by the bed, took off the skirt that had been uncomfortable but had just made him happy, and threw it straight into the trash.

The five-figure skirt was thus ruined.

Wen Ling didn't feel sorry for the skirt, since it was worth the price, but she now felt sorry for herself; thinking of what she had impulsively promised, she wanted to cry but couldn't.

Zhou Yinhe, however, wanted to laugh; one moment of grievance could buy him a week of happiness—how could you not count it as worthwhile? As for the photos of him in the skirt, he didn't mind at all, after all he had just taken a video on his phone.

The video of him bullying Wen Ling while wearing the skirt.

When Zhou Yinhe held her again in his arms, sharp soreness shot through her waist and legs, and Wen Ling burst into a sob, "I'll never bully you again—don't take what I just said seriously, okay?"

"Too late—I already took it to heart." Zhou Yinhe narrowed his eyes, poked her waist, and another wave of soreness made Wen Ling's intestines feel like they'd regret turning green.

Zhou Yinhe is basically not human.

"Not sleepy? If you're not sleepy, I'll just keep going—I remember there's another skirt in your wardrobe that would be quite suitable."

"I'm sleeping!" Wen Ling hurriedly grabbed Zhou Yinhe's hand, tightly closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembling.

Zhou Yinhe seemed still a bit regretful, lay down again, and said, "Alright, then next time I'll wear it for you to see."

Wen Ling gritted her teeth, silently cursing.

Bastard!

They had fallen asleep, and it was already 2 or 3 a. m.; Wen Ling woke up, and it was already noon.

Zhou Yinhe leaned against the headboard, looking at his phone, still holding a strand of Wen Ling's hair in his hand.