"Let Qingyu help me prepare," Han Yingying really couldn't believe a straight man's aesthetic judgment.
Shen Mosheng nodded seriously in agreement.
"Shen Mosheng, were you laughed at today?"
"No."
"That's good then."
"Why do you ask?"
"Today, my senior gave me a gift to wish me a happy marriage."
His expression faltered, and Shen Mosheng just let out a soft "hmm," the smile at the corner of his mouth fading slightly.
Unable to see his face, Han Yingying continued to report, "At the staircase, someone running in a hurry bumped into me, and I almost fell down the stairs…"
"Yingying," Shen Mosheng cried out in alarm, pulling Han Yingying from his back into his arms, his eyes intensely scanning her body for any injuries.
Because of his sudden movement, Han Yingying got startled, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.