It's this thing...
Seeing the clay man in the middle of Nie Qingwu's chest, Ye Feng couldn't help but be somewhat stunned.
He hadn't expected that Nie Qingwu would rush into the tent without regard for her own life, just for the pair of clay figures he had made.
"I just thought that if the tent collapsed, and if the clay man got soaked into a puddle of mud, it would be too pitiful..."
Just then, Nie Qingwu also snapped out of her initial panic and, noticing Ye Feng staring at her, her pretty face blushed slightly as she hurriedly clutched the clay man in her palm and defensively explained.
But as soon as she spoke, her face turned even redder, feeling that her explanation was trying to hide something obvious.
"Even if it got wet, what of it? I can just make another one for you," Ye Feng sighed and after helping Nie Qingwu up, he said in a complex tone.
He wasn't a fool; how could he not tell that Nie Qingwu might have developed some feelings for him?