Bo Yan also started sprinkling flour. The two of them dodged and sprinkled, covering the entire kitchen in white. Just as Xia Siyu was about to turn around to grab more flour, Bo Yan, quick-eyed and deft, stepped forward, wrapped her in his arms, and pinned her against the counter.
Their faces were completely covered in white. They didn't even need makeup—they could just walk straight onto a set and play Black and White Impermanence. Perfect casting.
Xia Siyu was panting, coughing, and laughing at the same time as she tried to wriggle out of his hold. "Let me go! Go make dumplings, will you? Be good."
Bo Yan, of course, wasn't about to let her slip away. This slippery fish of a woman—if he let go, she'd probably fling another handful of flour in his face: "If we're going, we're going together. Cooking should be done together too."
