Ling Xue smiled as she pushed the dice cup in front of Ye Fan. She didn't gloat about Ye Fan about to lose, but maintained her unique calmness and a faint expectation of redeeming her humiliation.
Ye Fan was as calm as could be. This scene in Ling Xue's eyes seemed like he was putting on an act. She couldn't help but think: "Can't he survive without acting? Always with that face begging for a beating, as if others owe him something. I guess, beneath that expression that looks like it's on the verge of defeat, he's actually worried about losing to me. Let's see how I uncover your facade, you hypocrite."
Ye Fan had no time to worry about what Ling Xue thought. He grabbed the dice cup and started shaking it quickly.
"Something's off. Why do I feel like there's one less die in the cup, or maybe not? What's going on? Is my hearing going bad?" Ling Xue's eyes widened, her mind tangled in confusion.
