Tang Ying's face had already turned pale, bloodless. She glared at Tang Huai with resentment, "Stop talking!"
Tang Huai's body slowly leaned back against the chair. She half-closed her eyes, leisurely watching Tang Ying.
Her left hand reached into her pocket and pulled out a voice recorder that Jing Xuan had given her.
She lowered her head, fiddling with the voice recorder, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Tang Ying saw something familiar in Tang Huai's hand, yet she couldn't recall where she had seen it before.
She asked, "What is that?"
Tang Huai chuckled, "A pen."
Then, with a look of 'do you believe that', she softly watched Tang Ying with a shallow smile.
Tang Ying wiped away her tears, looking at Tang Huai with displeasure, "You're laughing, you're mocking me!"
"I'm a person who likes to laugh. As for mocking, if you say it is, so be it."