“Song Qingqing, what on earth are you doing? Why are you wearing an outfit like that to deliver documents to Zhang Xu? Where is he?”
Gu Huai could take it no longer. He slapped the documents onto the desk, anger plain on his face.
Pointing at my clothes, he cried in dismay, “Why are you... why are you dressed like a maid today? Have you been possessed or something?”
Possessed?
