"Go on, workout those muscles of yours. Hurry up and wash my clothes,"
Lin Yi's brows furrowed, he just knew that Old Iron Head was being petty again. While he fretted over the clothes, two sour-smelling stinky socks floated down towards his head.
Someone peeked out with a mischievous grin, "Oh, I forgot, there are two socks as well."
Lin Yi was speechless, feeling that not reporting Ma Junying's matter to the Young Master was the most regrettable thing he had ever done. He should have reported everything in great detail, making someone anxious, mad, and yet without any recourse.
