Chapter 674: Chapter 674: Love Letter
But she was still pissed off about being forced to vote for Tiffany Lynch before, especially with Tiffany’s air of superiority.
Even now, thinking about it made her teeth itch with irritation.
She would be happiest seeing both of them face off and get hurt.
But after some thought, she hated Tiffany all the more. After all, losing to Hannah Winter was due to popularity, but being looked down upon by Tiffany was because she rode on others’ coattails.
Hilary Quin got more and more irritated as she thought about it, and ended up venting all her anger on Hannah, "You had a perfect opportunity to screw her over, but you apologized and let it go. I can’t even look at you now."
Having said that, she snatched the tea cup from Hannah’s hand and drained it.
Hannah did not stop her and, nursing a headache, she began a different line of conversation, "Ancient punishment, ultimately, is death. But do you know why there were brutal tortures such as dismemberment, being skinned, boiling, before the death penalty?"
As she spoke, her smile seemed like a flower swaying under the warm sunlight, soft and charming. Her warm, smiling eyes, however, gave off a dangerous aura.
Hilary subconsciously swallowed and looked at Hannah with a bit of wariness in her eyes. But her words were defiant, "Hannah Winter, you’re seriously sick."
Hannah just chuckled, replaced the tea cup, and poured in wine instead.
It was just rice wine brewed by the villagers. They weren’t wealthy, so it was diluted with a lot of water. It didn’t taste like much, but under this starlit night, it had its own unique flavor.
For the rest of the evening, Hilary didn’t dare bother Hannah again. She was uncharacteristically well-behaved, not causing any trouble, which even George Quach found strange.
Later that night, he escorted Hannah back to her cabin, holding a few letters sent by her fans.
The mountain trails were difficult, even for couriers. He wondered how Hannah’s fans had managed to get the letters to him so quickly, but in any case, they did.
He asked Hannah for permission before opening them.
Much of the content was praise. There were also some expressions of affection that were a bit bold, causing George’s cheeks to flush as he read.
A soft laughter drifted to his ears, as if brushed on his face by the night wind.
But unlike the cool breeze, her laughter was warm.
George lowered his head, his voice lacking the calm he usually had during the day, "Want me to read them out loud?"
Hannah turned and smiled at him, "Sure."
So George lowered his head, reading each word out loud.
His voice was pleasant, a mix of the vitality of youth and the stability of a man. Just like a stream flowing in the mountains, crisp and clear.
As he got to the last line of the last letter, George hesitated for a moment, only to be hurried along by Hannah.
She was eager to hear others praising her. It felt good, and she finally understood why that person always loved to hear others’ praise.
He squeezed the letter a little tighter before he continued, "I am smitten with you. Though you’re like the moon in the sky, I still hope that you could cast a little light upon this pitiful crawler. I’ve crossed streams upon fallen leaves, smelled your sweet fragrance beneath the thick night. It’s unforgettable and will last a lifetime."
As the last word fell, the rustling of leaves could be heard.
Hannah frowned, her previous joy fading, "Who wrote this?"
George quickly flipped through the envelope. He found a signature in one corner and paused.
