Ye Jiuliang raised her hand to cling onto his shoulder, pursed her lips, and smiled silently.
For a long while, the laughter near her ear did not cease.
Ye Jiuliang, helpless, scratched his arm, "Are you so happy you've gone silly?"
"Our kid, ours," he kept repeating this phrase, his rare excitement revealing his feelings at the moment.
"Little rascal, our kid."
Ye Jiuliang said with an acid tone, "Right, your favorite kid."
Even the motorcycle was bought only for the kid, definitely his favorite.
"Nonsense," Li Mochan let her go, looking at her with an affectionate gaze, "No one compares to you, this little rascal."
Even their kid couldn't compare to her.
Ye Jiuliang felt a slight sourness in her teeth, and the smile in her eyes couldn't be concealed.
She huffed, "Who believes you, just now you said you'd only buy a motorcycle for the kid."
"I won't buy for him, only for you," Li Mochan wisely corrected himself.
