Chapter 140 - 139: Want to Lose Weight?
As if struck by a thought, the man’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly. "Trying to lose weight?" he asked calmly.
"Yeah," Joanna replied defiantly.
"Alright." Simon didn’t lecture her this time. His support was so prompt that it stunned Joanna for a moment. ’What’s he playing at?’
The next second, she heard his unquestionable tone, "Wake up early tomorrow and go for a run with me."
Joanna: "............"
Joanna: "!!!"
"I’ll get muscular!" Joanna cried in disbelief, still trying to squirm her way out of it. "Muscles are all hard," she whined. "They don’t feel nice to touch..."
Simon remained expressionless. "Healthy is what matters."
Joanna: "............"
’Right, right. What a perfect image of a pure, passionless, aloof beauty. Anyone who didn’t know better would really think he was asexual.’
’Then I guess the hickeys all over my body are from a dog!’ Joanna glared at him, grinding her teeth.
She glared until her eyes were sore, but the man’s expression didn’t change. Joanna deflated. "Can’t I just not run? I can’t get up. Besides, didn’t you say memory is best in the morning, and that I should be memorizing poetry...?"
"And have you been?" Simon’s tone was nonchalant.
Joanna: "............"
’She just likes to sleep in, is that her fault?!’
’The way Simon talks is so infuriating! What does he mean I haven’t been memorizing anything? I review a piece of classical Chinese in my head every single morning, I just don’t like to recite it out loud!’
Joanna said defiantly, "You don’t see me trying because you don’t actually care about me! You only care about yourself!"
Slacking off, and then making false accusations when caught.
"Joanna, you can do an extra math worksheet tonight," the man said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Across from the black office desk was a similar sandalwood desk, a new addition. It was piled high with high school textbooks and practice tests. A few pens lay scattered about, and a history textbook was open to the middle.
Joanna: "!"
Joanna’s eyes went wide in disbelief. "It’s already past nine! Do you have to be so cruel?!"
The "cruel" Simon glanced at the time and said flatly, "You can skip the long-answer problems, just do the multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blanks. It’s 9:10 now. I’ll check your work at 10:00."
"........."
After speaking, the man pushed up his glasses with a slender finger, lowered his gaze, and went back to his documents.
Joanna: "............"
’I never should have mentioned losing weight.’
Joanna decided to make one last desperate attempt. She shuffled over to him and asked in a soft voice, "Can’t I just do it tomorrow?"
’Tomorrow I have rehearsal for the show. I’ll try to come home late and hope he forgets.’
"Tomorrow will have its own work," Simon said without even looking up.
"Simon~"
"It’s 9:14. You have forty-six minutes."
Joanna: "............"
Her attempts to act cute and soften him up had failed. Joanna, now both fuming and frustrated, snapped, "Simon, this is practically corporal punishment! I already finished my assignments for today. I’m not doing it!"
The girl’s plump, fair cheeks were flushed red, and her clear, sparkling almond-shaped eyes were wide with anger.
Simon glanced at her before looking away, the corners of his lips lifting in an almost imperceptible arc. He continued in his flat tone, "Alright. In that case, get up early and come running with me tomorrow morning."
Joanna: "............"
Joanna was absolutely furious. She stomped toward the door, fully intending to slam it shut behind her in a grand display of her "anger."
The man just said lightly, "That door cost 430,000."
Joanna: "............"
Joanna’s hand on the doorknob trembled. She exerted all her self-control to close the door gently.
Back in her bedroom, Joanna threw herself onto the center of the bed, snatched a neatly placed pillow, and punched it a few times. She finally felt like she’d let off some steam.
’I swear, if Simon doesn’t apologize, I’m never speaking to him again,’ Joanna silently vowed.
In the study, Simon stared at the document, lost in thought, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm on the desk.
One second...
Two seconds...
Three seconds.........
Two minutes later, a sound came from the study door. The man’s rhythmic tapping stopped.
In his peripheral vision, the girl appeared, hugging a small cat-shaped pillow. She sat down across from him, turned on the desk lamp, and took a worksheet out of a drawer...
The "mountain of books" between them was too high, blocking his view. Simon could only see the top of her round, dark head, adorned with a marshmallow-shaped hair clip.
"Sit up straight," he said.
Joanna: "............"
She reluctantly straightened her posture. Now Simon could finally see her face, her lips pushed out in a high pout. She might weigh a hundred and eight pounds, but a hundred of them were pure defiance.
Inside the study, under the soft, bright light, the solid black desk and the off-white sandalwood desk faced each other. The handsome, aloof man had his eyes down, reading a document, while the pretty, charming girl gnawed on her pencil as if it were her mortal enemy.
Mistakes made in pencil could be erased and rewritten; the margin for error was high.
The air was quiet and warm. The window was half-open, and a gentle autumn breeze drifted in, carrying the faint scent of osmanthus. Several osmanthus trees planted around the villa were already in bloom.
As the scent of osmanthus filled the air, Joanna’s restless mood gradually settled, and she began to diligently check her answers.
She barely finished by 10:00 on the dot. Joanna stretched her aching arms, then leaned over the desk, sticking her bottom out as she shoved the worksheet in the man’s face. "Here."
Simon, who was in the middle of marking up a document, found his vision blocked. He paused, expertly wrote one final character, and then took the worksheet from her hand.
A quick scan revealed she had only missed two of the more difficult problems. The girl had improved a great deal since the beginning.
Simon carefully and clearly wrote out the reason for her mistakes next to the problems, along with the correct solution. He was about to speak when he looked up and stopped himself.
The girl was leaning on the desk, head propped in her hands, having fallen asleep at some point. Her fair wrist was smudged with graphite dust, and her long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, making her look unexpectedly quiet and docile.
The night breeze continued to drift in, tickling her face with strands of hair from behind her ear. Perhaps feeling the itch, the girl frowned slightly in her sleep, shifted, and laid her head down on the desk to continue sleeping.
’Usually she stays up until eleven, hiding under the covers playing with her phone. She never listens. She only behaves after being "disciplined" a little. And yet here she is, fast asleep.’
Simon put down the worksheet and pinched the bridge of his nose. He walked over quietly, closed the window, and then stood studying the girl in the light of the desk lamp.
As if driven by muscle memory, the man reached out a finger the next second and gently tapped the girl on the forehead.
The warmth of her skin on his fingertip brought Simon back to his senses. He calmly retracted his hand.
Perhaps Simon’s threat had been too effective, because as Joanna slept, she began to dream. In her dream, she was running, miserably.
Just as she was about to stop, Simon’s cool, indifferent voice came from behind her: "Do you want another worksheet?"
The dreaming Joanna: "............"
She forced herself to keep running. Suddenly, she felt a tap on her forehead—not too light, not too heavy. Joanna’s eyes flew open. She was awake, and the sky was bright with daylight.