"Auntie, did you guys have a fight?" Xiao Xian had seen Uncle San Gouzi and his wife argue before, just like this—Uncle San Gouzi's face scratched by Sangouzi's wife. These days, men hitting women is absolutely unacceptable, but if women hit men, well, that's a different story. Really hard to say.
"Fight? What fight. Since we got married, not to mention fighting, not even a quarrel. Your Uncle San Gouzi would just keep silent and hide in the bathroom. Arguing with him is like arguing with a wall," Zhuo Feng spoke the plain truth.
"Then why do you look like you want to cry, and Uncle San Gouzi isn't saying anything, and nobody asked how I've been in school this month?" Listening to Xiao Xian's sensible question, Zhuo Feng felt even more ashamed; she was really a useless auntie.
"He won't let me work on the rooftop anymore," Zhuo Feng preemptively complained about Feng Xing.
