Luo Binghe had just opened the door when he saw a delicate, orange-colored figure bound toward him. He took a good look, then said, full of smiles, “Yingying.” Unexpectedly, Ning Yingying shuddered and paled in shock. “What’s wrong with you, A-Luo?! Did you hit your head?! Why did you address me like that?! What the hell is with this ‘Yingying’—that’s terrifying!” Luo Binghe fell silent. Ning Yingying’s expression of pure horror had yet to fade. “Why didn’t you call me Ning-shijie?!”
