Men naturally had loud voices, and Hu Si'er even deliberately raised his pitch, sounding like thunder booming. Consequently, not only the diners sitting at the tables eating noodles but also most of the people cooling off by the river turned their heads to look this way.
Guan Rong was on tenterhooks, holding a bowl of cold almond tofu that felt like a fiercely burning charcoal stove. She couldn't make a sound and could only bite her lips while looking up pitifully at Hua Xiaomai, as if waiting for her to save her.
This time, however, Hua Xiaomai refused to speak any further; she just gave a light, reassuring smile, squeezed her way out from the middle of the table, and stood in the dark shadow of the tung oil lantern, gazing quietly.
