Li Peifeng picked up the red envelope and asked, "Do you want my parents to give you this red envelope in front of them?"
"..."
Zhao Qingge didn't reply, sitting on the chair with her head down, fiddling with her phone.
Li Peifeng also remained silent with her, sitting by the bed, quietly watching the other person.
Today, Old Zhao wore a light brown retro-style woolen short jacket, unbuttoned to reveal a fitted white shirt underneath, a pair of light blue denim shorts wrapped around her slender legs. She sat with her legs crossed on the stool, looking much younger than in her slightly dull work attire, and her makeup seemed even more exquisite.
The jawline of her side profile was sharp enough to kill, her red lips slightly pressed together, with a slight downturn at the corners of her mouth revealing Zhao Qingge's unrestful inner state.
"I don't want the red envelope."
