Mu Qingyi looked at Lin Huahua, then looked at Hu Baiyu, then looked back at Lin Huahua again.
For a moment, even his usually calm deer face showed a rare blank look.
It really could not be blamed on him.
Lin Huahua was standing there with her hands on her hips, her small face tight with anger, her brown eyes round and bright, and because she was already tiny to begin with, the whole scene looked less like a female scolding someone and more like a little white rat standing up on two feet and trying very hard to discipline three large beasts at once.
Cute.
Too cute.
So cute that the seriousness of her words got crushed the moment they left her mouth.
But Lin Huahua herself did not know that.
She was still full of righteous anger.
