Ye Qianhe fled so quickly that Ling Chuxi couldn't reach him in time. When she finally recovered from her shock, the old pervert had already disappeared from sight. The young men and maidens also recovered from their shock, threw down the palanquin and flower baskets, and ran away.
"Why is he so afraid of you?" Lan Xinyu finally asked Ling Chuxi suspiciously.
"Last time we met, I slapped him a couple of times, so he's probably afraid of me now." Ling Chuxi blinked and guessed.
Lan Xinyu looked at Ling Chuxi weirdly and was silent for a long time, then muttered in disgust: "Pervert." Nobody knew whether she was talking about Ye Qianhe or Ling Chuxi.
Lan Xinyu was sure of one thing—in this lifetime, wanting to take revenge on Ling Chuxi was a hopeless dream. She was destined to live a life of being tortured.
"Careful!" Just as Ling Chuxi and the rest walked over to the stalls, a shout was suddenly heard from the crowd.
