On Sunday evening, Qian Yue and Pei Yilan rushed to Ming Xin Mansion with beer and skewers to help Lin Jiao solve her problems.
"Jiaojiao." Pei Yilan opened the beer and sat cross-legged on the carpet. "Let me tell you something that only you don't know."
"What?"
"Uncle has liked you for many years."
Lin Jiao's eyes widened. "Many years?" She looked up in disbelief, her voice trembling. "Are you lying to me?"
"No." Her expression was especially serious. "Chu Yuzhou told me himself, but I'm not sure how many years."
Qian Yue put on disposable gloves and looked at Lin Jiao, who was clearly stunned. "Is it possible that it was love at first sight?"
"That's unlikely." Pei Yilan recalled. "Jiaojiao was only eighteen years old when she met him."
When she was 18 years old, Pei Zhi was already 24.
"I was not eighteen yet." Lin Jiao corrected her. "The day after you brought me to meet him was New Year's Eve."
