South Grant didn’t think much of it. He went back, took a shower, applied some itch-relief cream, then did a few exam papers before getting ready to sleep.

He originally thought Nathan Foster wouldn’t come back, but just as South Grant was about to sleep, Nathan Foster came in from outside.

"Why did you return?"

"Why aren’t you asleep yet?"

They both asked simultaneously, and at that moment, Nathan Foster walked over unsteadily.

As he approached, South Grant caught a strong smell of alcohol.

Along with it came a refreshing scent of having just bathed.

South Grant couldn’t help but freeze a bit.

He never had a habit of bathing outside, but now, having showered and changed clothes, he looked like someone who sneaked a taste and needed to wipe his mouth clean.

Nathan Foster walked to the bedside, propped his arm on the headboard, pinning her there, his eyes glinting dangerously as he squinted at South Grant:

"Didn’t you want me to come back?"

The voice, seasoned with drunkenness, had a particular magnetism, but at this moment, South Grant couldn’t appreciate it.

A drunken Nathan Foster was someone to avoid.

"No, no, just thought you were too busy and running back and forth was tiring."

Nathan Foster reached out and pinched her chin, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"You sly little smooth talker."

Witty and smooth?

Am I being talked about?

To change the topic, South Grant leaned in slightly and sniffed beside Nathan Foster.

"Did you take a shower?"

Nathan Foster withdrew his arm and sat on the bed, resting his head in his hands, mumbling:

"Had a social gathering, showered downstairs."

It seemed Nathan Foster drank a lot of alcohol.

Upstairs had a bathroom with Nathan Foster’s usual items. If Foster claimed he showered downstairs to not disturb him, South Grant wouldn’t believe it.

Could it be that something happened?

Did Foster find another dog outside?

"Did you shower just to cover up your sins?" South Grant sounded like a wife catching her husband’s infidelity.

Nathan Foster turned back to look at South Grant, eyes as deep and bottomless as obsidian.

"Are you jealous?"

South Grant rolled her eyes at him, "I’m jealous of soy sauce too! If you are sneaking around outside, just tell me early on. There are only two things I won’t share with others in this world, a toothbrush and a man. If I find out I’m sharing a rotten cucumber with someone, I’ll personally chop that cucumber."

Nathan Foster looked at South Grant and suddenly burst out laughing.

"No sharing, this entire cucumber patch is yours."

South Grant: "..."

An entire cucumber patch...

Just how many cucumbers are you planning to grow?

Nathan Foster laid down next to South Grant.

As he turned his face, he saw a red mark on South Grant’s neck.

South Grant frowned, "What’s wrong with your neck?"

South Grant touched the place he was staring at, "Mosquito bite."

"Where did a mosquito come from in the house?" Nathan Foster’s voice was deep.

"I got bitten in the small woods," South Grant hadn’t given it much thought.

The small woods, mysterious red marks...

And she says it’s a mosquito bite.

South Grant looked at Nathan Foster’s expression and realized Nathan Foster had misunderstood.

South Grant reached down and unbuttoned a button on her chest, revealing bite marks on her collarbone.

"If you don’t believe me, look, I’ve been bitten all over."

Nathan Foster looked over, and indeed there were several red marks, faintly visible beneath her collar.

"Let me see..." Nathan Foster’s voice was hoarse as he reached out with his hand.

In the next moment, the second button of the pajama was undone in Nathan Foster’s hand.