"Shen Mosheng said he'd accompany me," Han Yingying said innocently, her face beaming with a radiant smile.
Sour from being force-fed dog food, Lin Xileng complained, "Hmph, you're really reeking of that sickly love stench now."
"If you're so capable, you get a love stench too."
"I'm not capable," Lin Xileng couldn't help but poke her forehead, "Is being in love that great, huh? Keep being sour at me and see how I deal with you!"
"Love's not a big deal, but it does give you the right to look down on singles with disdain."
"You, you, you..." Lin Xileng, with one trembling hand pointing at her and the other clutching her heart, made a heartbroken whimper, "I've been critically hit; I can't recover without ten cups of milk tea."
Han Yingying mischievously winked at her, "I'll compensate you with my brother, enough milk tea to cover it, and free errands to boot."
"Forget it, forget it, I'm self-healing." Lin Xileng hastily declined, nearly spilling the milk tea by her hand.