Look at those neat green bricks, so clean and tidy. In contrast, their adobe house would tremble and shed dust as soon as you raised your voice.
The brick house was always brightly lit, unlike their adobe house which turned damp and dim during winter.
The comparison was like heaven and earth.
With Yuanbao in her arms, Zhao Mei contemplated that they probably would never be able to afford a house like this. But she was already content with having a son now.
Feeling relieved from her constant worry, she seemed much more energetic.
Zhou Zhaodi would concede that she and her husband could not afford a brick house. Instead, they pinned their hopes on their sons, Dabao and Erbao, to work hard, make something of themselves, and provide her a comfortable home in their future.
"Achoo!" Chen Erbao sneezed all of a sudden.
She rubbed her nose indifferently, scratched her bottom, oblivious to the grand hopes riding on her.
Li Chunhua was beginning to regret.