Qiao Tianbao, although very fond of Qiao Qingyu, deep down believed that a married woman's duty was to wash clothes, cook, and serve her husband. His own wife was just like that.
But at this moment, Lu Ye felt that Qiao Qingyu shouldn't be like this, yet he couldn't voice his thoughts, only bowing his head to eat slowly.
He Xiuyu had shared a few drinks with Accountant Zhang and Qiao Tianbao, and now the moon hung over the willow tips. He escorted the two men to the base guesthouse, while Lu Ye left in his big truck.
Afterward, He Xiuyu walked briskly towards home.
The dizzy yellow of the streetlights diffused into the night, quickening his steps. When he shut the courtyard gate, he could hear Qiao Qingyu and He Xuerong talking.
He slowed down, a faint smile on his lips.
Perhaps hearing He Xiuyu's footsteps in the courtyard, the light in Qiao Qingyu's room snapped off suddenly; in an instant, save for the light in his study, everything else plunged into darkness.
