"Uncle Huo."
In the car, Fu Ziyang's tiny hand was touching the soft and shiny black fur of ko, and he asked with a cute expression, "Isn't Aunt coming home today?"
Otherwise, why would he and KO be taken home?
The man who wanted his wife more than the dog just grunted, his dark eyes slightly narrowed.
In front of the courtyard gate, a woman stood there.
In November, it was just after six in the evening, the sky was already somewhat dim, and the temperature was only about five or six degrees.
But she was wearing a thin red dress, revealing her legs, her pale skin contrasting against the dusk, appearing overly scheming.
"Woof!" Seeing a stranger at the door, KO decisively barked.
Fu Ziyang then asked, "Uncle Huo, is that a thief?"
Huo Jingshen: "..."
Not exactly a thief.
But her relentless scheming was true.
He drove the car over and then turned on the high beams.
Qiao Zixin immediately turned around.
