Lin Nianhe was preparing a little ghost costume and drawing black eyes on a white bedsheet with a marker when she got the news that a few families were moving away.
"This quick, they're moving out?"
She looked incredulously at Wang Shumei, who had brought the news.
Wang Shumei looked back at her with equal disbelief, "My lady, what on earth did you do to them? I heard that in the afternoon, that splashing madame's daughter-in-law took her child and went back to her mother's place, and in less than an hour, the rest of them moved out too!"
Lin Nianhe glanced at the white bedsheet in her hands, looking very distressed.
She didn't have a water-soluble pen in her space. This marker was oil-based.
Translation – it wouldn't wash off.
Such a pity for her white bedsheet!
"Nianhe? Nianhe?"
Wang Shumei tip-toed and waved her hand in front of Lin Nianhe.
