The Old Pickle

Lu Xingzhi loved Jiang Yao. He had always thought that taking care of her was an exciting thing, so why would he be impatient because of some trivial matters?

Lu Yuqing sighed. "There's so much public display of affection wherever you two go. Looking at the two of you makes people want to get married."

"Who do you want to marry? Huang Chengjing, that old pickle?" Lu Xingzhi asked.

The old pickle was standing at the door, holding the hands of a little princess. He looked gloomy.

"Dad, what does old pickle mean? Is it so old that it doesn't taste good?" Huang Chenchen asked her father innocently. "Aunty said that old pickles don't taste good. Why did Uncle Lu call you an old pickle?"

"Lu Xingzhi!"

Lu Yuqing glared at Lu Xingzhi when she saw Huang Chenchen standing there, asking a question that the adults could not answer. "If you continue to spout nonsense again, I will teach you a lesson."