As the two started bathing themselves, Lin Qiao stood aside and kept waiting. Soon, the zombie boy came back with an iron bucket, which was even taller than himself, carried on his head.
Clang!
Lin Qiao watched him put that empty gasoline can loudly before her face.
Smelling the strong scent of gasoline, Lin Qiao had a bad feeling. "You didn't pour all the gas in it away, did you…"
The crack-mouthed zombie boy looked at her confusedly, as if he was saying to her with his eyes—'You didn't tell me to keep the 'water' in it… That 'water' was stinky and greasy… Why would I keep it…?'
Lin Qiao didn't know what to say. Looking at the zombie boy's innocent eyes, she covered her forehead with a hand.
"Alright, alright, it's okay… Next time, don't pour away that kind of stinky water, alright? Bring it to me. I need it," Lin Qiao sighed and said to him.
The zombie boy had even washed that bucket, as there was still some water in it.
