During breakfast, Chang Zhong, the little uncle, completely lost face. Everyone knew that Chang Zhong had drawn a map of mountains and rivers on his own blanket. The little guy was so puffed up with anger that he didn't even eat his breakfast, putting all the blame on his dear father.
As Zhulan cradled her plump son in her arms, she glared at Zhou Shuren, who was offering a sheepish smile, "You've gone too far, knowing full well how much our son values his face."
Zhou Shuren was happy, but now he felt guilty as his son ignored him, "It's been a long while since he wet the bed, who knew it would happen just now?"
Chang Zhong covered his ears, "Mom, Mom."
Zhulan, with laughter in her eyes, glared at Zhou Shuren, "Are you still talking?"
"Alright, alright, I'll stop. Son, I was wrong today. What must Dad do for you to forgive him?"
