"Ziheng! Ziheng!"
Early in the morning, just as Pei Ziheng started having breakfast, Zhao Yun was shouting outside the door like someone rushing him to his grave.
Shen Mingzhu told Pei Ziheng to invite Zhao Yun in to sit for a while and have some more breakfast.
At Zhao Yun's age, he had high metabolism and big energy consumption—he wouldn't get fat no matter how much he ate.
"My mom…"
The moment Pei Ziheng's gaze landed on Zhao Yun's multicolored face, his words halted.
Embarrassed, Zhao Yun covered his bruised face with his hand, "If I said I got this from playing basketball yesterday, would you believe me?"
"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Pei Ziheng asked calmly.
"No."
So Zhao Yun stopped covering up and let Pei Ziheng examine his face.
"That bastard Gong Rong dared to bully you while I wasn't around, how could I let him off the hook?"
"So, did you win?"
"He didn't get off easy either!"
"So, you lost?"
Zhao Yun froze.