Knowing that he could never outrun her, Jenson stopped walking.
Whitney stood in front of him, her beautiful face looking extremely aggrieved. "Do you really like girls who take etiquette class or was that just an excuse to make me leave martial arts class?"
Jenson peered into Whitney's serious eyes. "I just think you need to go to etiquette class to learn something to get rid of this bandit aura on you."
Whitney said, "Will you like me after I take the etiquette class, then?"
Jenson frowned.
"I don't like girls who are always getting intimate with guys!" Jenson said.
Whitney recalled how she would often have physical contact with guys when she fought with them. It turned out that this was too much for Jenson, who had mysophobia, to bear.
"Okay. I’ll do as you say. F*ck, I'll even stop fighting from now on."
Jenson glared at her. "I don't like girls who swear either."
Whitney covered her mouth. "Okay, I'd rather be dumb than swear."
Jenson looked at Whitney...
In the past three years, she had stayed by his side whenever he was lonely or homesick.
Like a sparrow that never stopped chirping, she had dispelled most of his sorrows and vexation.
Perhaps it was due to his precocious mindset, so he often saw Whitney as his younger sister although she was five years older than him.
Whitney asked carefully, "Do you have any other requirements, Jens?"
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