1006 Lan Ling's Letter

Zhao Ying gritted her teeth and resisted the peculiar feeling of her body, but Yang Ming seemed to be deliberate. He was not finished, so Zhao Ying couldn't help but say, "Yang Ming, are you finished? Why are you so slow carrying a dish?"

Yang Ming said pitifully, "Can you blame me for this? I am carrying a dish in each hand, and I am afraid to spill it!"

How would Zhao Ying know that in Yang Ming's case, never mind having one dish in each hand, Yang Ming could keep a good balance even with a few plates in one hand? Zhao Ying really thought that Yang Ming couldn't handle it, so she had to give up.

Yang Ming dawdled for a long time, and finally took two dishes of fragrant soup out of the kitchen. He was secretly satisfied. I am so flexible.

Zhao Ying was flustered by Yang Ming. Her face was as hot as if she had a fever. Zhao Ying believed that if she put an egg on her face at this moment, it would definitely be cooked.