"I'm here, not just to say all that." Ye Xiaoxiao smiled gently, but her eyes strangely lit up. Ye Yuwei suddenly felt a chill down her back, glaring at her warily.
"Get to the point, speak up if you've got something to say." Feeling a dull ache from her wound, Ye Yuwei's forehead was dotted with cold sweat, and naturally, her tone was not polite.
"Don't rush, just listen to me slowly." Ye Xiaoxiao found a comfortable position, elegantly crossed her legs, her sidelong glance filled with a peculiar cool detachment.
Subconsciously, Ye Yuwei's heartbeat quickened, and she quickly turned her head away: "Leave, I don't want to hear it."
A weasel giving New Year's greetings doesn't have good intentions; anything that comes out of her mouth is definitely not good news, she doesn't want to hear it.
