Walking into the room, Song Yun headed straight for the bathroom and said to Wang Ling, "Xiao Ling, I'm going to wash up first, you can watch TV."
Wang Ling's mouth twitched, thinking how Song Yun acted so naturally, entering and going to bathe as if she were his wife.
Gathering her thoughts, she replied irritably, "Song Yun, don't talk nonsense, I didn't invite you here for such things."
Song Yun pouted, looking aggrieved, "Can't I even wash my hands?"
"Wash... wash your hands?"
Wang Ling widened her eyes, stuttering, "You... you mean you want to wash your hands?"
"Yes," Song Yun nodded, "If you won't let me wash, then forget it."
Wang Ling hurriedly said, "Alright, alright, you can wash your hands first."
Song Yun entered the bathroom, and Wang Ling looked at the closed frosted glass door, suddenly feeling like she'd been played. Could he really just be washing his hands?
While Wang Ling was doubting, the door suddenly opened, startling her.
