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Chapter 30: 30 The Golden House Conceals the Beauty (4)

Seeing that Bo Yan hadn’t finished his bottle of Paris water, she sneakily took it for herself without pouring it into a wine glass and unscrewed the cap to drink directly from the bottle. The carbonation traveled down her esophagus, and that feeling of contentment was simply amazing.

Not to mention, although Bo Yan seemed annoying, he cooked quite delicious meals. For the chicken breast to be crispy on the outside and tender and juicy on the inside was no small feat.

Looking up, at the other end of the long table, Bo Yan was elegantly using a napkin, lightly dabbing the corners of his mouth.

Then he got up, taking all the plates to the kitchen to wash.

Owing someone for a meal, Xia Siyu also felt ill at ease just leeching a breakfast, so she proactively got up, took her own plate to the kitchen, and offered to do the dishes.

Bo Yan didn’t stand on ceremony with her, sliding his plate toward her and then turning to walk away.

Having lived abroad with her mother when Xia Siyu was young, she was familiar with these household chores.

When she came back after cleaning up, Bo Yan had already brewed a large pot of coffee. He poured himself a cup and started to read the script while sipping. She glanced over and saw half a pot left, so she helped herself to it without asking.

Bo Yan was reading the script at one end of the sofa while she played with her phone at the other. Two meters apart, they coexisted peacefully, with only the occasional sound of Bo Yan turning the pages of the script breaking the quiet as if it were an untouched wasteland.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long for Wei Jingjing to come to her rescue, “I’ll be there in ten minutes; I’ve got quite a lot with me, come down and help me with it.”

When Xia Siyu stood up, Bo Yan also put down his script, responding to an

audio message from Song Fengzhi, “Bro Bo, I’m downstairs, everything’s

packed.”

Both of them got up and walked toward their respective bedrooms. After changing clothes and coming out, they found themselves taking the same elevator down together.

Xia Siyu noticed that Bo Yan was carrying a suitcase, probably heading out of town. She glanced at the coffee table, the script was still there, but she felt too lazy to remind him—it had nothing to do with her anyway.

In the same elevator, Bo Yan stood on the outside, she was on the inside; neither spoke, each maintaining their distance.

It wasn’t until a phone call broke the silence, “Is this Teacher Bo? It’s Fei’er.”

Perhaps because the underground parking garage was so quiet, anyway, Xia Siyu could tell it was Shang Feifei speaking.

Bo Yan nodded, “Hmm.’

“l heard Director Wang Ju is holding auditions for ‘Storm,’ and you’re there, too. I’d like to try out,” Fei’er said.

Xia Siyu glanced at him and thought about the script left on the coffee table. She knew about “Storm,” it was famous director Wang Ju t s new project, which had garnered a lot of attention in the industry as soon as it was announced. Qin Baizhou had also wanted to help her get in contact, but with a production by Director Wang, actors were chosen by him alone, and it wasn’t a project you could secure through connections. And now, Bo Yan was going to work with him.

“You can contact them yourself,” Bo Yan said, his tone as indifferent as ever.

“But 1 heard Teacher Bo might be able to make suggestions. I’d appreciate any accommodation during my audition,” Fei’er responded, her voice carrying a tinge of coquettishness even through the phone line.

Xia Siyu could almost sense the sly pleading in Shang Feifei’s voice through the phone.

How unexpected, Shang Feifei always so cold and proud before others, was also capable of acting coquettishly!

A frown visibly formed on Bo Yan’s face.. He was just about to refuse when suddenly, a soft body leaned over, whispering gently in his ear, “Darling, who are you talking to?”