Mo Qingchen swooped in, his palm sliding into hers as she tried to get up. With another, he grabbed her waist and propped her up on the chair without a hitch.
Qian Meng stared, baffled at what had just transpired.
"Just being a gentleman," he defended quickly, shrugging off the matter. She put it to rest herself and watched as he expertly got on the stool without a problem. The thing was, his legs reached the floor while hers dangled mid-air.
"How tall are you?" she asked, squinting.
"Six foot three inches, why?" He gave her a curious look. "Are you trying to measure me? I think the size of my shoe would come in handy instead," he suggested.
Qian Meng rolled her eyes. "You need new clothes. I was thinking of sending you some. You look practically homeless."
He looked down at his shirt. "What's wrong with what I am wearing? I enjoy not having to think about what I will wear that day and focusing my energy on my work and other aspects of my life." He shrugged.
