The little melon was practically beaming with excitement as he waited for An Ning to get ready for bed.
After all, what better time for gossip than when one was comfortably tucked in—soft lighting, a blanket fortress, and no witnesses but the night itself?
"Before I start," he blurted, unable to contain himself any longer, "how did you even manage to slip the ring into Sun Qiaolian's bag?"
An Ning raised a brow, sliding under the covers with all the serenity of someone who'd just committed a perfect crime. "Let's just say I learned the sleight of hand long before this."
"But how did you know she was going to set you up?" the little melon pressed, eyes wide and utterly invested.
"Of course I didn't," An Ning said. "But she was hovering around my bag after I came out of the restroom. That doesn't exactly scream good intentions."
[Ding! Current Luck Value: 35]
"So," An Ning murmured, making herself comfortable against the pillows, "Song Qingwan?"
