Meimei stumbled a bit underfoot, almost falling, and looked back at him in surprise.
What did he just say?
He's going to help her wash the dishes? Did she hear wrong?
Just imagining Tingye standing in front of the sink washing dishes made Meimei shake her head uncontrollably, biting her lip, "It's not necessary, it's just two bowls, I can do it myself."
He is the idol of countless girls; how could she dare to let him wash dishes for her? She's afraid of shortening her life.
Tingye watched as she walked into the kitchen, not hurrying forward, just standing at the door, watching her put down the bowls, rinse them with water, squeeze out some detergent to create a handful of foam; only then did his tall figure walk forward, hugging her from behind, taking the dishcloth from her hand, and washing the dishes effortlessly.
"Tingye..."
Meimei's petite body stiffened, embraced in Tingye's arms, feeling as if she was encased in plaster, not daring to move an inch.
