"Why are you staring at me like that?" Yang Ruqin groaned. Curiosity was written all over Zhao Lifei's face in bold, red letters. She didn't like that look.
"My sweet Qinqin, I think it's storytime." Zhao Lifei patted the space beside her. Yang Ruqin's fiery glare could burn a hole through the pure linen fabric. She sniffed, was that burnt cloth she smelled?
"Storytime about what?" Yang Ruqin tried to stall as much as possible. She took tiny steps to Zhao Lifei. A minute passed and she had not crossed a meter yet.
Zhao Lifei impatiently climbed out of the bed and grabbed Yang Ruqin's wrist. Then she hauled the young woman onto it. "Story about you and the assassin!" She forced her Qinqin to sit down on the bed.
"How about we talk about something else? Like how the blind date went—"
