“Then please make the call. As long as those men don’t stay here overnight, I don’t care!” Emily Clark shrugged and said.

“You—you’re not a man, I’m ignoring you!” Yvonne Foster turned away angrily.

Watching Yvonne Foster’s graceful figure disappear next door, a trace of hesitation flashed in Emily Clark’s eyes.

Am I being too much? It’s just the first day—indulging her once shouldn’t spoil her, right? No, women are like this: give them a little sunshine and they’ll shine, give them a little color and they’ll open a dye shop. For the sake of future happiness, for the sake of peace and quiet, it’s better to be a bit ruthless now.

Emily Clark hesitated for a moment, but still went back to his room to read.

“This guy really isn’t coming!” Next door, when Yvonne Foster saw that Emily Clark didn’t follow her, she was truly frustrated. She touched her own face, and for the first time in her life, seriously doubted her own beauty.

“Could he really be gay?” Yvonne Foster immediately wondered again.

But no matter what Yvonne Foster thought, she had no choice but to turn around and walk into Emily Clark’s room again. She had the admirable quality of never giving up.

“Ziqing, the bed is too heavy and too big, I can’t move it by myself!” Yvonne Foster coquettishly pushed Emily Clark’s shoulder with her delicate hand, acting cute.

Emily Clark shivered. Compared to the current Yvonne Foster, he’d rather have her youthful, lively, and cool self. He quickly stood up and said, “Fine, fine, I’ll move it for you, okay?”

Watching Emily Clark’s back, Yvonne Foster made a victory gesture, then proudly swayed her youthful, sexy waist as she followed closely behind.

Her hips really were eye-catching as they swayed, but unfortunately Emily Clark couldn’t see them. Even if he did, it would probably only add to his suffering.

“Isn’t the bed’s position fine as it is? How do you want it moved?” Emily Clark asked.

“The floor under the bed is really dirty. I want to clean it thoroughly. Move the whole bed to the other side!” Yvonne Foster commanded with her hands clasped, looking very imposing, a mischievous glint flashing in her big eyes.

Wear you out!

Emily Clark glanced at Yvonne Foster. How could her little scheme escape this “old immortal”? But right now, Emily Clark couldn’t wait to get rid of Yvonne Foster. The less trouble, the better—he couldn’t be bothered to argue with her.

Isn’t it just moving a bed over there? Back in the day, moving mountains and seas was just a wave of the hand. A trace of disdain flashed in Emily Clark’s eyes, but soon it was replaced by a hint of gloom.

Emily Clark bent down, quietly gathered his inner energy, and with a bit of force, easily moved the bed and mattress to the opposite wall.

Yvonne Foster stared blankly at Emily Clark’s somewhat slender figure, really wanting to pinch his “thin arms and legs” to see what they were made of—how could he, like an ant, burst out with such strength?

Seeing Yvonne Foster’s expression shift from dazed to disappointed, Emily Clark was surprised to realize he was being petty, because at this moment he was clapping his hands in triumph, shooting a proud look at Yvonne Foster.

He couldn’t quite explain why he liked seeing this woman’s frustrated expression. Maybe it was because she was too “strong”—so strong that ever since she appeared, Emily Clark always felt led by the nose by her, and only now did he barely regain a bit of ground.

Seeing Emily Clark’s smug face, Yvonne Foster’s disappointment vanished in an instant, replaced by a charming smile.

Emily Clark’s heart skipped a beat. Just as he turned to escape, Yvonne Foster grabbed his arm.

This was the first time Emily Clark’s skin had come into direct contact with Yvonne Foster’s.

Emily Clark felt a jolt—not that kind of jolt, but the real kind, the kind that makes you want to shake it off immediately.

Yvonne Foster also felt a jolt—not that kind either, but was shocked by how smooth and delicate a man’s skin could be. She was a nurse, had given countless injections, and arms in her hands—male or female, old or young—were just another body part. But she had never seen a man’s skin so smooth and tender.

“So white! So soft!” Yvonne Foster couldn’t help but stroke Emily Clark’s bare arm a few times with her delicate hand, exclaiming with a “lustful” look.

Emily Clark’s pores stood on end. He quickly pulled his hand back, really wanting to point at Yvonne Foster and yell, “You’re being a pervert!” Luckily, he remembered he was a man.

Emily Clark didn’t want to stay in Yvonne Foster’s room for even a second longer, but when Yvonne Foster saw he wanted to escape, she spread her arms and blocked the door.

The pose was just like Yvonne Foster was doing chest-expanding exercises, her chest sticking out so full and firm that it made one want to bury their face in the valley between her peaks and rub back and forth a few times.

But Emily Clark didn’t have that thought. Just as his body was about to touch those two firm mounds, Emily Clark stopped himself in time. He realized he had a psychological shadow about Yvonne Foster’s alluring chest.

Looking at Yvonne Foster’s triumphant, condescending gaze, as if she had him completely under control, Emily Clark once again lamented why he wasn’t a bad guy. Even if not a bad guy, being a little bit of a scoundrel would be nice!

Just then, Emily Clark’s phone rang.