Tianxin, hands on her hips, looked at her work with satisfaction, then turned around and looked at Chen Yiran with an expression that pleaded for praise.
Chen Yiran was casually sitting on the couch, looking at Tianxin, handed her a peeled apple, and gently said, "Dear wife, thank you for your hard work."
With just one sentence, he successfully made Tianxin blush again.
She shyly took the apple from Chen Yiran's hand, then bit into it. Her voice, like a mosquito's hum, muttered, "Thank you... dear husband..."
"Oh... what did you just say?" Chen Yiran, with another peeled apple in his hand, took a bite leisurely, then teased, "You're speaking too softly. I didn't catch that."
"..."
Tianxin stared at his intentionally mischievous face and couldn't help but glare at him.
"If you didn't catch it, too bad. I won't repeat myself," she said, wrinkling her nose at Chen Yiran and tilting her chin up defiantly.