"Yes. Then we held hands and sang Kumbaya."

"Very funny." She put her drink down and focused her attention on him. "How many people did you fire today?"

"None." His reply was prompt.

"Really?" Her eyes widened in shock. "How many people did you make cry?"

"I do not make people cry." He slipped off his jacket and draped it over the back of the seat. "Their lack of emotional control is not my responsibility."

"Indeed." Yun Qian Meng bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

"Buckle up," he said, holding back a grin.

She grabbed the buckle and attempted to click it shut, but it was broken. After trying several times, she gave up in frustration and reached for her drink.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a sip of my drink," she explained the obvious.

"We are about to take off. Buckle your seat belt." He looked annoyed. "I am inclined to think that you are an alcoholic."

"I am not. And it's broken." She lifted the two ends to show him. "Can't even repair your seatbelts and fly in a jet? Disgraceful," she commented.

"It's not broken," he argued.

"It is." She struggled with the clasp to show him.

"Let me see." He reached over and before she knew it, his hands were in her lap, trying to fasten the seat belt.

Qian Meng started to giggle.

She squirmed as he tried to buckle the belt. It was uncontrollable and becoming painful. "Stop!"

"Sit still," he scolded impatiently. She was sure he was enjoying her discomfort.

"Stop stop stop!" She gasped for air.

Just as she was about to pour her drink on his head, the belt clicked. Instantly, he removed his hands. She tried to glare at him but the wicked grin on his face made her anger simmer down.

A throat cleared above them.

Yin Ah was standing there, holding his cake with a stunned look on her face.

"Your cake, sir." Her eyes widened as they darted back and forth between them. "I am going to the cockpit to give you two some privacy. Buzz me if you need me."

Mo Qingchen waved her off.

"What the hell does she mean by that?" Qian Meng whispered as the woman sauntered away.

"Who?" Mo Qingchen set the cake down, slowly lifting his eye to her.

"The woman really has some balls. Insinuating things."

He stretched out his legs before him. "I don't know what she means. If you want to know, go ask her."

She rolled her eyes. "She thinks we are sleeping together."

"So," was his response.

She gaped at him. "That doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it bother me? I don't care what she thinks," he said with complete sincerity.

"She thinks I am a slut." Qian Meng huffed.

"Sleeping with me would make you a slut?"

"Yes. I mean no. I don't know." She paused. "I am not a slut."

"Of course you are not," he agreed. "Unless we sleep together." His grin was in contrast to her sour expression.

Mo Qingchen was in a playful mood and she was glad since they were on a long flight. It didn't take long for her to decide she shouldn't care what Yin Ah or anyone else thought of her. If she could live with her decisions, that was all that mattered.

"Don't look so smug," she warned. "It makes you a dishonorable manwhore."

"Would it?" he asked. She nodded. "I have been called far worse than that." That caused her to laugh. It was probably her who made the comments in the first place.

"What could you possibly have been called to make you say that? I can't imagine anyone would call you a whore, no doubt something else." Mo Qingchen was skeptical of her words. He squinted suspiciously.

"You're mistaken, I have to say." She paused, mulling over the words, almost rubbing it into his face. Yes, Mo Qingchen, you are not always right. Contrary to what you believe. "You called me a shark before. You were a gentleman. Instead, I have been called an ungrateful slut who steals men from others and repays kindness with malice." She finished that little monologue bitterly. One of those people had been his own younger sister and her former friend, Mo Yize.

"Well, they don't know you at all," Mo Qingchen retorted.

"Why, thank you. I didn't think you thought so highly of me!" She was delighted, but she kept her expression neutral.

Mo Qingchen snorted. "Of course not. You're not stealing anyone's man." She wasn't the kind to take things forcefully from others when they didn't belong to her in the first place. She was loyal to a fault and placed great emphasis on human relationships. Therefore, he thought it impossible for her to do anything resembling the things others thought of her. But he wouldn't tell her that. She would become even more conceited if he patted her on the back for good behavior.

"I am not sure if I should be flattered by that statement, Mr. Mo. What are you implying?" She knew all too well what he was implying. But she had to press. She could never pass up on a volcanic argument with this man.

"Nothing much. Just that you are busy and too stuck up to associate with a man. What a prude!" And this was coming from a man who didn't have friends.

'Sure, who was actually stuck up, Mo Qingchen?' she thought snidely.

Qian Meng gasped. "Did you just call me a prude?" She turned to him, her eyes blazing with ill-concealed intent of pouncing on him and strangling him. There was no indecision. She didn't know how she held herself back, though.

"What? Are you going to kill me?" he taunted, a smile barely present on his lips. Qian Meng didn't notice it in her offended state.

"Don't tempt me, Scoundrel," she hissed. She took her hand and placed it on his shoulder. Mo Qingchen startled and looked at her like she had grown another head.

"What are you doing?" he asked hesitantly.

"Nothing," she sang. "Just going to show you that I am not a prude." The oath was scary and Mo Qingchen found himself unconsciously placing his hand over his chest to protect his dignity.