Edward Stephens was scolded by her, so he stopped asking questions.
"Miss Ginger, the first aid kit has been brought to you."
The servant carefully brought the first aid kit over to Daisy Ginger.
Daisy Ginger silently reached out to take the kit, found the burn ointnt and alcohol wipes inside, and then looked up at Edward Stephens, saying: "Give your hand."
The man looked at her for a few monts and slowly offered his burned hand to Daisy Ginger.
His hands were long and slender, with well-defined knuckles. He was good-looking, and even his fingers were flawless. The wound on his palm, caused by Daisy Ginger, hadn’t stopped bleeding. Its edges were burned, giving an unsightly, charred appearance that made one frown.
Daisy Ginger, expressionless, cleaned the edges of his wound with an alcohol wipe. The man sat there motionless, as if the hand wasn’t his at all.
Soon, the wipe was stained red with blood.
Daisy Ginger switched to another one and continued cleaning.
The servant, watching from the side, twitched his eyes as he watched Daisy Ginger treat the burn as if dealing with an enemy. anwhile, Edward Stephens seed entirely unfazed, as if the bloody burn wasn’t even on his own body. He said nothing, resting his chin on his hand with an intrigued look, curious about what Daisy Ginger would do next. The scene was particularly strange.
A few of the younger girls couldn’t bear to watch any longer, sneaking away to one side, not daring to look.
Daisy Ginger discarded the second alcohol wipe and finally applied a bit of burn ointnt on Edward Stephens’ wound.
The man let out a soft breath of laughter.
Daisy Ginger paused, glanced at him, "What’s funny?"
Edward Stephens said, "Nothing."
"..." Daisy Ginger’s face darkened.
Edward Stephens explained, "I thought you would use up the entire pack of alcohol wipes before applying the dicine."
"..." Daisy Ginger gave him a sideways glance with a slight sneer, dabbed so powder on his wound with a cotton ball, wrapped a bandage around his hand a few tis, and said lightly, "I’m not as idle as you think."
Having done all that, she stood up from the sofa, slightly tilted her chin at Edward Stephens, and said coldly, "Get lost."
Edward Stephens leaned on the sofa, not imdiately standing up. He watched her for a while with a cigarette between his lips before slowly rising from the sofa. With one hand in his pocket, he walked over to stand in front of Daisy Ginger, looking down at her.
"When can I get my things?"
Daisy Ginger: "When I’m pleased."
"And when will you be pleased?"
"Depends on my mood."
Edward Stephens nodded, sliding his long fingers across the bandaged wound on his palm, "Alright."
This lesson was truly unforgettable.
*
Near the end of the workday, Daisy Ginger received a call from Ian Linton.
"Ian," she held the phone between her shoulder and ear, quickly signing docunts on her desk, her tone gentle, "What’s up?"
Ian Linton’s voice was just as warm and pleasant as ever: "Director Ginger, do you have ti to have dinner together?"
"Sorry, Ian, I promised my aunt I’d have dinner at her place today." Daisy Ginger said apologetically, "Perhaps another day. I’m busy these days."
"..." Ian Linton paused, showing a montary silence. After a brief mont, his voice quietly reached her, "Director Ginger, you and Mr. Stephens... have made up, have you?"
It was unclear whether it was due to a poor signal, but Ian Linton’s words sounded sowhat unfamiliar.
***
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