"Are you crazy?? Get on my knees?" Zhao Yang slapped Zhao Yun's head lightly. "How can I do that– "
"Then, at least properly apologize! Give her compensation! Send her gifts!" Zhao Yun pinched Zhao Yang's thigh out of the blue, making the man groan a bit.
"You!" Zhao Yang's body trembled. His ears slowly turned red. "Am I apologizing or asking her hand in marriage, huh? What gift– "
"She sacrificed herself for me!" Zhao Yun suddenly interrupted. He looked straight at Zhao Yang's eyes and glared. "Uncle, you came late. Without miss witch, I would have been killed already!"
Zhao Yang's face turned grim. The man slowly lowered his head and went silent.
"Uncle, you see her wounds, right? All of it opened up again because she ran out under the rain!" Zhao Yun put both of his hands on his hips, looking like an angry little chicken.
