Dong Shan's eyes misted over.
He was an engineering student, she studied fine arts.
Before they married, he said he liked the artsy, gentle aura about her, which made people feel stable and warm, as if having her by his side suddenly gave him another home. Now, he claimed it was what he couldn't stand the most.
A lump formed in Dong Shan's throat, and she slowly said, "I want to paint."
"Ha!" Qiao Zhengchong seemed amused by her statement, "Want to paint? That's your reason for leaving home? The Qiao Family has no place for you to paint?"
Dong Shan's eyes reddened, tears nearly spilling out. She rubbed her eyes, holding back from crying, but her voice was tearful, "Yes. The Qiao Family has no place for me to paint."
"What are you trying to say?" Qiao Zhengchong almost shouted.
