Hannah held a stick of green foxtail in her hand, swinging it now and then over Vincent's head as if teasing a cat. "If you don't bother him, he naturally won't bite you."
The assistant director shook his head, "No, we must change the person."
Hannah retracted the expressions on her face, her red lips curled into a light smile, showing a hint of charm. However, her voice was faint. "Do you think I'm negotiating with you?"
She cast a casual glance, her eyes filled with flirtatious allure but tinged with a hint of coldness, each move carrying an imposing aura.
The assistant director bit his lip, unable to argue.
He didn't dare either.
Hannah lowered her head, the green foxtail in her hand lightly brushed against Vincent's nose. He sneezed and looked at her reproachfully.
She chuckled lightly.
The ice and snow melt, and the warm breeze blew again.
Hannah said carelessly, "If you can't make a decision, you can ask George Quach."