"Sorry." She felt sowhat embarrassed, wanting to help him tidy his shirt, yet felt her dirty hands were useless.
"It’s fine." Manuel Ink tossed two words at her indifferently, the expression on his face did not seem displeased by her actions.
"Co inside." Turning his head, he walked towards the mansion.
Sumr Sutton kept her head down, imdiately following him.
In Sumr Sutton’s eyes, Manuel Ink was too sacred, like a gleaming white moonlight that no one could desecrate.
While entering with him, Sumr Sutton deliberately kept a distance, fearing she might offend him.
At that mont, the rain was still pouring heavily; Manuel Ink had only brought an umbrella and held it in his hand.
He seed not to have expected Sumr Sutton to keep such a large distance from him. After walking forward a bit, he turned sideways to glance at her standing far away, drenched like a drowned rat, his expression imperceptibly darkened.
"Co over!" The cool voice escaped his lips, and his steps halted.
Sumr Sutton lifted her face to look at him, stunned for a few seconds.
Manuel Ink didn’t repeat himself, instead walking a few steps towards her without saying anything, shifting the umbrella in her direction.
His action left Sumr Sutton once again stunned.
Manuel Ink’s face remained calm, as he positioned the umbrella over both their heads, expressionless, continuing his walk.
He wore sneakers, the clean soles stepping in the rain produced a faint sound.
The splashing raindrops brought Sumr Sutton back to her senses, and she quickly followed.
Keeping her head down, she quietly walked with him side by side into the house.
The Ink Family estate wasn’t ordinary; just the garden, with its winding paths of flowers, took over ten minutes to traverse.
After finally arriving at the main house deep in the garden, Manuel Ink led Sumr Sutton inside, handed the umbrella to the waiting butler, and mildly said to the maid standing inside, "I expect to see her clean later."
"Yes, young master!" The maid responded respectfully, leading Sumr Sutton upstairs from either side.
Sumr Sutton’s current state was too disheveled, her clothes still soaked, leaving a trail of water stains wherever she walked through the hall.
In such a condition, she was indeed not suitable for negotiation.
Obediently, Sumr Sutton followed the maid upstairs.
The butler stood aside, watching her figure walk away, and glanced at Manuel Ink beside him, hesitating to speak, "Young master..."
"It’s none of your concern." Manuel Ink tossed the words at him indifferently, stepping towards his room upstairs.
...
Sumr Sutton was brought by the maid to a large, beautifully furnished room, but upon opening the closet, all the clothes were for a middle-aged woman.
It seed to be Manuel Ink’s mother’s.
"The young master never brings won ho, there aren’t any clothes for young girls here, these belong to the hostess, you’ll have to make do," the maid simply explained, picking out a slightly smaller, fresher-colored dress and comparing it with Sumr Sutton.
Sumr Sutton was montarily stunned by the maid’s words.
In Manuel Ink’s domain, there seed to be nothing related to won anywhere around.
Her sun was truly like moonlight, sacred and inviolable.
The maid felt that this dress should fit her and led her into the bathroom.
Sumr Sutton wanted to say she could manage herself.
The two maids paid no mind, pressing her into the bathtub.
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