Meng Yunhan maintained a serious composure, "I truly am not your mistress, you have confused me with someone else. My family name is Meng; I really am not your mistress."
"Mistress, didn't Aunt Liu come back with you?" the burly man continued to ask.
Meng Yunhan was rendered speechless. She turned towards the tricycle, "I'm sorry, brother, I am really not your mistress, you have definitely confused me with someone else. Goodbye."
She hopped onto the tricycle and left forthwith.
The burly man watched as Meng Yunhan's tricycle drifted away, scratching his confused head, "Isn't she the mistress? They look so alike."
"Young master, I just saw a lady who looks exactly like mistress," the burly man reported to Zhou Jiahao.
Zhou Jiahao was puzzled for a moment, "Does she really look alike?"
Are there truly two people in the world who look alike?
"Yes."
Zhou Jiahao waved his hand, allowing the man to leave.
The eighth day of August was a day of great joy.
