Chapter 303: Chapter 303: Doesn’t he seem like a charlatan?
The next day.
Abigail settled Teddy in place and wore a light gray shirt with excellent drape, paired with black high-waisted wide-leg pants, and mid-heel strappy shoes. Her thick, long hair was styled into temporary large curls, and she wore light makeup. She was still plump, but exuded a powerful aura.
When she got to the garage, Brandon Piers had already arrived.
The man and Abigail were wearing the sa style of shirt in different colors, black trousers, and he lazily leaned back in his wheelchair. When he saw Abigail approaching, he raised his eyebrow slightly, a hint of satisfaction flashing in his amber eyes.
Who said plump girls couldn’t be beautiful? At least the little chubby in front of him, once tidied up, was quite eye-catching.
Of course, there was also a point; it was he who had bought this outfit for the little chubby.
...
“Are you coming along?” Abigail looked at Brandon Piers, then at Pullan and the car behind her, with a face full of confusion.
“Yeah, I have sothing to do, in the sa direction.” Brandon Piers answered casually.
Abigail nodded, “Okay.”
After saying that, she instinctively glanced at the man’s eyes, and sure enough, the dark circles were still there. Was it insomnia again?
She had long guessed this outco. Unfortunately, a certain man didn’t heed her advice. Now he’s probably pent-up, right?
However, she wasn’t going to get skin grafts because of his obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Brandon sensed Abigail’s probing gaze, thinking she noticed sothing. He awkwardly got into the car while Pullan hurriedly collected the wheelchair.
Abigail didn’t notice Brandon’s mood and followed him into the car.
Pullan couldn’t help but Tsukkomi in his heart: the second master was getting more and more hypocritical. Obviously, he was there to support the little madam, yet he claid it was just on the way. What business could the Piers have that would conveniently lead to such a small, broken company?
But this ti, Pullan had learned his lesson and obediently sat in the front passenger seat.
The car drove out of Piers’ Mansion.
Abigail glanced at the two unusually silent n, unable to help but ask, “Is the insomnia severe?”
“Yeah,” Brandon Piers nodded. But his insomnia wasn’t due to the obsessive-compulsive disorder Abigail thought it was, but rather because of the guilt and helplessness he felt since seeing Abigail’s scar.
Ti couldn’t turn back. Pain couldn’t be altered. He couldn’t do anything. Looking at her clear, pure eyes, he didn’t even know how to start comforting her.
He was afraid his untily words might cause her to rember the pain from that ti again.
Brandon Piers never knew he could feel such an intense sense of guilt towards soone.
Abigail couldn’t sense the man’s inner turmoil. She took out a black leather case from the bag she casually brought along, “I won’t satisfy your obsessive-compulsive disorder by getting a skin graft, so do you want to try acupuncture? It can relieve insomnia.”
After saying that, Abigail opened the leather case, revealing rows of slender silver needles, ranging from short to long, a dozen in total, varying in size and shape, glittering with a cold silver light under the sunlight streaming through the car window.
Brandon Piers, “…”
“Lad… Madam, are those… needles in there?” At the front, Pullan turned his head upon hearing Abigail’s words and seeing those glittering silver needles. The mory of being pricked unconscious by a needle resurfaced, and his fear of being dominated by silver needles suddenly awoke. He asked tremblingly.
He even subconsciously swallowed his saliva.
Brandon Piers looked up at the pale-faced Pullan, “You’ve seen them?” Why hadn’t he seen them before?
“Oh, last ti when you had surgery, he insisted on stopping , so I pricked him with a needle.” Abigail spoke calmly and honestly, adding, “Don’t worry, there are no aftereffects.”
Pullan, “…” Was he asking about aftereffects? He was trying to say, “Can you not prick again in the future?!”
Brandon Piers gave Pullan a cold glance, so he almost got killed by this fool without even knowing?
Just when Pullan was worried about how to subtly tell the madam not to prick him again in the future, he suddenly felt the second master’s cold gaze. He shrank his neck back, quickly returned to his seat, and sat up straight, practicing looking at his nose and looking into his heart.
Getting pricked wasn’t actually that scary when you thought about it.
Sob…
“Oh, right, rember to give Dean Foster the money for the antidote. Don’t tell him I gave it to you.” Abigail reminded, then turned to look at the sullen-faced man beside her, raising her eyebrows lightly, “Want to try it?”
Her tone was like a charlatan asking middle-aged n and won if they wanted to try new health supplents.
Brandon Piers looked at the glittering needles, pressed his throbbing temples, “No.”
He valued his life.
Abigail seed a bit regretful, “It’s actually really helpful. Free trial.”
Her tone resembled a charlatan’s even more.
Brandon Piers simply closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.
Pullan silently gave the second master a thumbs-up in his heart, wise!
Seeing that the other party wasn’t appreciative, Abigail awkwardly touched her nose. These n, they really didn’t know good stuff. Those high officials and nobles used to line up, wanting her to prick them, yet she was too lazy to entertain them.
Shaking her head, she carefully put away her silver needles and glanced at the man with his eyes closed. She had to admit that even with dark circles, his cold white skin was still delicate and smooth, without any visible pores. His eyelashes were like rows of small fans, making people’s hearts itch.
Beauty truly had no gender.
Marrying such a beautiful man, just putting him at ho as a decoration was quite pleasing to the eye.
“Hmm?”
Unexpectedly, while Abigail was carefully admiring the man’s beauty, he suddenly opened his eyes. His long, amber narrow eyes carrying a hint of mischievousness, his clear and watery voice gave a soft “Hmm,” which was extrely pleasant. Abigail’s heart trembled, as though swept by those rows of eyelashes. Sitting up straight with a guilty conscience, her face visibly turned pink.
Brandon Piers had long felt the little chubby’s gaze. He originally just wanted to tease her, but hadn’t expected to see her flustered appearance. Even more unbelievable was her face.
It was his first ti seeing soone’s face turn pink in its entirety.
Moreover, Abigail’s skin, already pale as if made of creamy jade, turned pink, resembling peach blossoms in March, bringing a subtle layer of spring within the sumr.
Brandon Piers’s heart also lightly trembled. The atmosphere in the car suddenly beca a bit strange.
Abigail sensed Brandon Piers’s burning gaze, assuming he was doing it on purpose. She pursed her lips and explained, “I’m just curious why your eyelashes are so long. How can a man’s eyelashes be so long? It defies science.”
After speaking, Abigail felt it was nothing. But with her explanation, it seed more like a cover-up.
Even more embarrassing.
Abigail was frustrated.
Brandon Piers was amused by Abigail. Usually, this little chubby was headstrong and straightforward. Now, this rare awkwardness was quite amusing, “Oh, then what do you think is the scientific length?”
Abigail felt embarrassed, glancing at Pullan, who was eavesdropping, “Um, Pullan’s look quite normal.”
Normal-Eyelashed Pullan, “…” What did short eyelashes ever do to anyone?
Who knew that Brandon Piers’s face would suddenly darken, “You observed Pullan’s eyelashes?”
Pullan. Short-Eyelashes. A shiver ran down Pullan’s spine. What kind of trick was this? Why did such a disaster fall from the sky?
Abigail, “Couldn’t I see at a glance? Is there sothing wrong with your focus?”
Brandon Piers nodded in satisfaction, “True, ugly and beauty are equally hard to hide.”
Pullan, “…” Don’t look for him, he’s dead!
“Sir, Madam, we have arrived.” At this mont, the driver who had been inconspicuous since getting into the car suddenly spoke.
Pullan let out a deep breath of relief; life was hard!
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