"Men and women don't hand things to each other; shouldn't your uncle avoid suspicion with your aunt? Did you peep on them?"
Qin Miaoke felt triumphant for having uncovered significant insider information and began to reassess Zhang Hao with new eyes.
The lie had been made up on the spot, not expecting Qin Miaoke to take it so seriously.
But since she did take it that way, could it be that she had had similar experiences?
"What's in those boxes outside?"
"Books, kitchenware, and some dolls."
Zhang Hao came alone to the living room, where the cardboard boxes reached the height of his thigh, something he would have struggled to bring up himself if not for the movers' help.
Tearing off the transparent tape and opening a box, he found pots, pans, ladles—all sorts of kitchenware.
The tableware all had a cute aesthetic, in shades of yellow and pink, clearly showing that the girl loved life.
After hanging up her clothes, Qin Miaoke finally came to the living room.
