Agnes’s gaze fell on the unfamiliar man before her. Despite wearing sunglasses, there was a sense of composure and elegance in his features, and his slightly upturned lips conveyed an immense gentleness. He gave off the impression of a humble gentleman, refined and gentle as jade. This man’s attractiveness was not merely superficial; he surely possessed depth, a demeanor shaped by the years.
Glancing at the person in the photo, Agnes returned to reality and gently placed the frame back in its original spot. He must be a close friend of her brother-in-law. In this digital age, how many people still print out photos and display them on a table? She was also touched by this kind of friendship.
Agnes walked lightly around the study, admiring its arrangement. A row of bookshelves against the wall particularly caught her attention. Her sister had taken care of a drunken Spencer and wouldn’t be back for a while. Agnes stopped in front of the bookshelf, her eyes gently scanning over the rows of books-titles like “Breaking Norms: On Literature and Belief,”
“One Hundred Years of Solitude,”
“Selected Works of Xu Zhimo,”
“Fish Have No Feet,”
“Style: Social Class and Life Tastes” lined the shelves. Agnes hadn’t expected her brother-in-law to be a literature enthusiast; indeed, appearances can be deceiving.
She even found John Ruskin’s “The Elements of Drawing” among the books, which surprised her once again. Stopping before the bookshelf, she took down this book. Agnes had read it no less than ten times because it was comprehensive, guiding both general art lovers and professional painters alike. The primary issue raised by this book was observation, crucial both in writing and painting, urging one to observe life closely.
With renewed respect, Agnes opened the book to familiar passages and quickly became engrossed in reading until half an hour later when Summer appeared at the study door with a nightgown in hand, calling out softly, “Bubu.”
The girl holding the book turned her eyes, “Sis.” There was a hint of surprise in her gaze. “You’ve taken a shower?” She noticed her sister wearing a pink nightdress, holding another in her hand.
“Yes,” Summer smiled at her. “Spencer had some clothes sent over; go take your shower.”
“Okay,” Agnes closed the book, put it back on its shelf, and walked towards the door.
After her shower, Agnes found her sister sitting propped against the bedhead with a book in hand, gently flipping through it.
“Is my brother-in-law asleep?” Agnes jumped onto the bed, nudging her sister curiously. “Aren’t you going to join him?”
Summer raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting slightly as she understood the implication behind her sister’s words.
“You… you’re really not going to join him? What if he throws up later?”
“He won’t; you’re overthinking it,” Summer met her sister’s eyes.
Her sister’s gaze seemed off; Agnes quickly explained, “He has already proposed to you, and you’re about to get married. I think… it would be normal for you to sleep together.”
“Little girl, worry about your own affairs,” Summer withdrew her gaze back to her book and softly reminded, “You could try dating Ansel.”
“I don’t like him!” Her sister seemed quite sensitive about this topic.
Summer paused briefly then looked up again, “So you dislike him then?”
“I… I don’t dislike him either; he’s my teacher’s son. Why would I dislike him? I don’t have romantic feelings for him; it’s impossible for us to date.”
“Do you have someone you like then?” Summer gazed at her sister intently, trying to probe further. “Didn’t you date anyone during college? Didn’t any guys from Marsh Group chase after you?”
“No,” Agnes dodged eye contact and responded without hesitation, “I mean no one chased me; I didn’t date anyone.”
“You answered only two out of three questions,” Summer’s mind was sharp as she stared unblinkingly at her sister as if trying to see through her thoughts. “So do you have someone you like?”