"Honey."
"Mm?"
"Guess what I found."
He Fang, clutching a grape, lay sprawled on the sofa, swinging her feet in the air as she shouted to the balcony.
Qin Guanglin glanced over but saw nothing unusual. She was still eating her grapes; it was just that her other hand was shaking a phone, so he bent his head back down and continued to scrub clothes, saying, "Doing laundry here, I'll look in a bit."
As long as there were no worms in them... Grapes shouldn't have worms, should they?
"Then I'll read it to you."
"Go ahead, read it."
"Ahem... The standard for a good husband, one, high income, at least five hundred thousand a year to start.
Two, spends little money, doesn't smoke or drink, and can't even spend a thousand bucks a month.
Three, respects the in-laws... Every time we visit, my dad mentions the pig you carried on the back of the bike. Bring half of one next time; let me continue...
