"Why is it you answering the phone? Where is Jianshen?" Fang Qinglian asked with a voice cold as ice.
"He's washing dishes."
Jianshen was actually washing dishes himself?
Every time she thought about the days she had been away, and the interactions between Nan Xi and Jianshen, Fang Qinglian's teeth itched with hatred.
"If Miss Fang doesn't have anything else, I'm going to hang up."
"How do you know I don't have anything? What if I did?"
"Really?" Nan Xi sneered, "Then why doesn't Miss Fang spit it out? Lu Jianshen and I are husband and wife, it's all the same if you tell me."
"Unfortunately, I only want to tell Jianshen personally."
Fang Qinglian purposely bit down hard on the words "personally," making them extremely clear.