The Tongue of a Woman Is the Sword That Is Never Allowed to Rust
Li Ji was a stubborn donkey—when she was angry, she had to argue back in opposition. Once she heard his laughter, she was immediately filled with grievances. In a huff, she turned around and made no sound as she walked back inside the room.
When he realised this, Jian quickly stretched out his hand and snatched her left wrist in a pleaded gesture, "Li Ji, don't pick a fight."
"Let go of me," said she, her head unturned. "Or shall I kick your shin?"
So Jian did as the little madam told. He exhaled and shrugged his shoulders. The less he interfered with their quarrelling friendship, the less headaches he'd have. Those two loved to banter, and fought so well too—that's the thing, oftentimes Jian could not tell which was which.