If not for the conservative nature of women in this era, merely stealing a few glances while walking down the street, they might have chased us all the way home by now.
Noticing his daughter's distraction, Mo Qingze gently tapped her head with the end of his pen and asked with amusement, "Even the Ink Grinder can be lost in thought. What kind of wild ideas are you cooking up this time, girl?"
Mo Yan stuck out her tongue and flattered, "Your daughter doesn't have any wild ideas. Isn't it because Dad looks too handsome? I'm just so proud that I got distracted for a moment!"
Mo Qingze, caught between laughter and tears, flicked her forehead, "You even dare to tease your own father. The older you get, the less disciplined you become!"
Mo Yan covered her forehead, pretending to be aggrieved, "What your daughter said is nothing but the truth. When Dad walks down the street, aren't there young ladies and young wives who steal glances at you?"