"Get lost!" The woman was anything but courteous in bestowing him with a single word.
Seeing her blushing face, so shy and delicate, Wen Zhan's gloominess instantly evaporated, wanting only to tease her a bit.
"You need to dress, and I need to dress—how about you help me, and I'll help you?" he jokingly suggested, while fetching a clean shirt from his clothes bag.
Mu Wanqing looked at the wrinkled shirt at the end of the bed and thought about last night when he used his expensive shirt as a rag and even received a slap for it, her face turning even redder, as if about to drip blood.
Wen Zhan was just making a joke, and seeing she wasn't responding, he proceeded to change into his clothes and then went out the door.
But he quickly came back in, holding a pack of tissues in his hand and offering it to her, "You really don't want my help?"