Jian Si finished wiping the desk and noticed a photo frame on it. It was unclear whether it had been deliberately placed face down or if it had been knocked over by its owner.
Just as Jian Si was about to set it upright, she heard a deep male voice behind her that faintly carried a hint of anger, "Are you here to be an assistant or a cleaning lady?"
Jian Si was startled. This voice, it was all too familiar.
When she turned around, Nan Zhan had already walked past her to the desk. He reached out his large hand to pick up the photo frame that Jian Si was about to straighten. With a snap, it sounded like a whip striking on her heart.
She stammered, looking at him, "You are Dylan?"
Nan Zhan didn't answer but glanced at the rag in her hands, "Miss Jian, your position is an assistant. Please take these cleaning supplies out. This is not your job."
