Li Xingfeng, upon hearing her son's words, found it very strange and couldn't help saying, "Eh, what kind of wind is blowing today? Don't you always love eating the meals your wife makes for you? I remember even the water she boils for you is sweet. Besides, the wontons are already wrapped. What's there to complain about good or bad taste?"
"It just tastes bad!" Li Jiazhuang glared fiercely at Tian Xiaorui and snorted.
"Sick in the head…" Seeing his reaction, Tian Xiaorui also snorted coldly and muttered under her breath.
"What did you say?" Li Jiazhuang walked over and said angrily.
"I said you're sick in the head!" Tian Xiaorui didn't back down at all.
At that moment, her arm still bore the bruises, the marks left from two nights ago when Li Jiazhuang, in a fit of rage at his inability to perform, had pinched her hard.
