revenge

Xi Ziyuan was already very tired when she got home, she fell directly on the sofa, and wanted to get the kind condolences from Xiaoxi beside her, but unexpectedly, Xiaoxi not only ignored Yuanyuan who was half dead from exhaustion, but also went into a daze on her own .

Yuanyuan had no choice but to go to Feifei's to complain, lying on Feifei's body as if she had no bones, and muttered like a resentful woman, "Dead Xiaoxi, bad Xiaoxi, don't know how to care about me."

Feifei glanced at Yuanyuan sympathetically, "It's probably Sichun."

Xi Ziyuan was taken aback by this, thinking... Sichun?Xiaoxi?

Yuanyuan looked at Feifei suspiciously, "Are you sure?" Yuanyuan kept thinking, Xiaoxi fell into the vortex of love so soon?

Feifei nodded affirmatively, "I saw her with Lan Caijin last time, and I saw Xiaoxi shy, so cute."

"Lan Caijin?" Yuanyuan kept thinking about this person in her mind, "Didn't he give Yueyi a dress?"

Feifei's eyes widened in disbelief, "No way, it's so complicated, so what should Xiaoxi do?"

Xi Ziyuan also scratched her head in annoyance, looking a little irritable, "Why don't we help Xiaoxi?"

The two chatted enthusiastically, and they didn't see Xiaoxi's fire-breathing eyes at all, "You two are very idle, aren't you? Is this kind of gossip what cold-blooded killers like you like to do most?"

Xiaoxi actually felt a little uncomfortable when she heard Lan Caijin send Yueyi the dress, "Yes... so what if I like Lan Caijin?"

Now Xiziyuan and Feifei were surprised, they didn't expect Xiaoxi to say it so directly.

But it seems that Xiaoxi always thought that Lan Caijin liked Mo Yueyi.

"It's okay, Xiaoxi, we'll help you chase Lan Caijin." Yueyi jumped out of nowhere.

"Ah!" Xiaoxi didn't expect the three sisters to be so connected this time.

Yuanyuan was also tired, so she left a sentence, it was settled, she turned and went back to her room to sleep, the boss all spoke, Feifei ran to the kitchen to find snacks, Yueyi sat on the sofa and played games, leaving only Xia Xiaoxi was alone in the living room, confused and in the process of petrification. . .

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Mouqing came to make up the word count again. . . . . .