"Weiwei, let's go home." Xiao Jinghan held Ye Weiwei tight, his voice a bit hoarse, even carrying a hint of grievance.
Ye Weiwei was defeated by this voice, the anger that surged up instantly dissipated by half, she tried to struggle out of Xiao Jinghan's embrace, "Xiao Jinghan, let go of me first."
"Weiwei, let's go home." Xiao Jinghan just wouldn't let go.
"Are you a broken record?" Ye Weiwei felt helpless, pinching and twisting the softest part of Xiao Jinghan's arm.
The man closed his eyes, enduring the pain, and continued to say: "Weiwei, let's go home."
Ye Weiwei's lips twitched, on the verge of collapsing.
"Lady, there aren't many drunk men who insist on going home like this. You should cherish it," the driver, seeing Ye Weiwei's helplessness in the rearview mirror, kindly advised.
"Master, it's not what you think, we're not husband and wife," Ye Weiwei hurriedly explained.
"Wifey, Weiwei, let's go home," Xiao Jinghan took the opportunity to add two words.