She got up too quickly and accidentally knocked over the tea on the table.
Song Yi scrambled to set it right: "Sorry."
Wen Mu looked at her hand, which was scalded and red, frowned, and asked lightly, "Are you okay?"
"Huh?" Song Yi: "I'm fine."
Her words were rushed, as if she was eager to leave.
"I was talking about your hand."
She withdrew her hand, indifferent to the pain: "It's okay, I'll go rinse it with cold water, and it'll be fine."
"Little Yi, don't be so hasty." Song Yi's mother frowned: "Go get some ointment and apply it. You're an adult now."
Her reproachful words were filled with hidden concern.
At this moment, Wen Mu's mother said, "It's okay, young people, it's understandable."
Song Yi had no time for idle chatter and brushed them off with a few words, then hurriedly walked away in her high heels.
Chasing in the direction where Tang Si had just disappeared.
...
The corridor.
