"Yes, Zhixin's right. Ha," Huo Mian replied vaguely.
"Why would I yell at you if it's just a bag? Buy it, your husband's rich."
"So, you're not going to yell at me?" Huo Mian wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, acting cute.
"Of course not. You're now the vice director of a hospital. You can't be carrying around a 100-yuan bag, right?"
"Mom, you're really becoming more and more understanding…" Huo Mian planted a kiss on her mother's cheek.
"Alright, alright, the two of you, get out of the kitchen. I need to cook."
Yang Meirong was the happiest when her children ate at home. Although it was tiresome, it brought her a great deal of joy.
After their mother returned to the house, Huo Mian and Zhixin came to an unspoken agreement of putting a stop to their previous conversation subject.
Instead, they began to chat about random things in the living room, accompanied by fruits and snacks.
- Before lunch -