Li Tingchen's last memory of her was of the woman who had thrown porridge at him just days ago—furious and defiant, like an angry cat. It was a far cry from the woman standing before him now, head bowed and anxious, all her claws retracted. Under Li Tingchen's scrutinizing gaze, Su Qingyu suppressed her discomfort and awkwardness, speaking in a small voice. "I need to ask you for a favor." Li Ting