Lin Qiaoxin agreed in her heart, shook her sore hand, and suddenly a cloth appeared in front of her eyes. She turned her head to see that it was Song Tingfan.
"Sister-in-law, wipe your hands." Song Tingfan looked at her obediently, his cheeks still a little flushed.
The antagonist really has nothing to say about this sister-in-law.
Lin Qiao felt a bit guilty for a moment, then took the cloth naturally, holding his hand gently and wiping it, then wiped her own.
The young man hadn't expected his sister-in-law to do this. He stared at her, dumbfounded.
Silly rabbit.
Lin Qiao smiled warmly and pointed her index finger at his brow, "Little Uncle, did flowers grow on my face?"
She was teasing him, but seeing him nod blankly, she couldn't help but burst into laughter.
She leaned in a bit closer and teased, "Then why don't you pick them off for your sister-in-law?"
