"I know, but recently I just like sour food. There's the old saying, 'sour for a boy, spicy for a girl.' Do you prefer a daughter or a son?" He Qianhui asked.
Zhang Hao didn't respond immediately, but instead really thought about this question in his mind.
If He Qianhui's genes hadn't mutated, then the child born would either be a son or a daughter.
If it were a daughter, he hoped she would be as beautiful as He Qianhui. If it were a son, he should also be like He Qianhui.
Definitely not so ugly that even he wouldn't want to look.
"Having a son would be a lot of pressure, wouldn't it? Our lives are just getting on track, and we have no worries about food and clothing."
"If a boy comes along, we'd need to earn money for his house, car, and dowry. Who knows, by the time we are in our fifties or sixties, we might still be laboring outside."
