Little Fourth said with a grin, "For something like this, Little Seventh should handle it. Little Seventh is clever and dexterous—he'll definitely help Young Madam put on the coat properly."
Then, he pushed Little Seventh inside the room and promptly closed the door. Amitabha, Little Seventh, if you don't go to hell, who will?
I'll definitely watch with a smile as you descend into hell.
Little Seventh's back was pressed tightly against the door, looking extremely nervous. He swallowed hard and stammered, "Um, Young Madam, I... I..."
"What are you stammering for? It's just putting on a coat. Why are you so tense? You hold the coat, and I'll put my arms in myself."
Little Seventh's face turned as red as a boiled shrimp. He held the coat, but his hands were trembling a bit. Qin Miaomiao stood right in front of him, gesturing for him to raise the sleeves higher so she could slide her arms in.
