The phone connected, and Bai Chuwei, without lifting her head, looked at the paper doll she had already cut out. With a pen in hand, she was drawing a face on the doll and asked languidly, "Hanhan, how do you have time to call me?"
The nickname "Hanhan" made Duan Feihan's forehead vein twitch. Standing in the garden, his voice flowed like water, "Just now, Master Liu gave my father acupuncture, and he cried out quite miserably."
Bai Chuwei chuckled pleasantly, "Oh? Is the Fourth Master preparing to come to me with a grievance?"
"Not to come with a grievance, but to invite you for a meal. Miss Bai, are you free tomorrow evening?" Duan Feihan could tell from Bai Chuwei's suppressed, wicked laughter that his own father's wretched cries from the acupuncture had something to do with her.
But as long as he could stay alive, it didn't matter if the painful acupuncture helped Bai Chuwei vent her anger.
"I can." It's not like it's going to cost her money.
