Her hair was still dripping wet.
"Uncle, I'm heading back to my room," Ji Anning whispered to Ji Chicheng before pursing her lips and bowing her head.
She moved step by step towards the doorway of her room, each step slower than the one before, stealing glances at the man sitting on the sofa.
"Who do you think will win this time, Real Madrid or Barcelona?"
Ji Chicheng suddenly spoke up.
"Eh!" Ji Anning stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Ji Chicheng.
She paused for a moment, then pouted and replied softly, "I don't know, for basketball players, you are the only one I'm familiar with."
"This is football," Ji Chicheng rolled his eyes at Ji Anning.
Ji Anning: "..."
That was awkward, previously mixing up basketball with football, now confusing football with basketball, Ji Anning, you're becoming more and more foolish.
She stood frozen in place, her face reddening, head still lowered.
