"Officer, were you looking for me?"
The moment Yang Zhiqi saw Meng Xinian's face, which seemed to embody integrity and righteousness, he couldn't help but feel annoyed.
"Enough with the 'you you you,' trying to act all polite," he scoffed.
"Officer, I am actually quite polite," Meng Xinian said seriously.
It was so hard to be a person; he was getting scolded even for using honorifics. Wasn't that unjust?
Banging the newspaper on the table, Yang Zhiqi retorted, "You're polite? Then who was it that last time, clutching a bottle, ran away as soon as they saw me?"
"Officer, would I have run away if you hadn't come to our dorm last time, tried the fried mushrooms, and then took the whole bottle with you?"
Speaking of which, who was being excessive?
Who understood the tiredness in his heart during this period?
