"Lu Junyi, you didn't cook again today, did you? In the first few months after we got married, you cooked every day. Then it became once every two days. And now? Can you even manage once a week?"
When a woman wanted to get angry, she could find five reasons to support that anger within five seconds, let alone Zhuo Minglan, who had already been simmering with resentment.
And when Zhuo Minglan returned home, she found her husband sitting motionlessly on the sofa with a gloomy face. There was not even a plate of pickles on the dining table. That triggered Zhuo Minglan's rampage BUFF even more.
"What, did you eat outside? And drink too? Smell the booze on you—aren't you disgusting? Don't you know I'm having morning sickness right now?"
"Who are you pulling that long face for? What right do you have to give me attitude? How much do you make a month, a few measly cents? Have you saved up enough for the child's formula? Don't tell me I'll have to pay for giving birth myself too?"
"Why didn't you wash the bedsheets I told you to wash yesterday? You can't earn money, you can't do housework—how was I so blind that I married you?"
"."
Faced with his wife's storm-like accusations, Lu Junyi sat firmly on the sofa without moving, merely staring at Zhuo Minglan with icy eyes.
Only after Zhuo Minglan said, "I was blind to marry you," did he move his neck mechanically and utter a sentence dripping with self-mockery.
"That's right! Someone really was blind. But it wasn't you—it was me, Lu Junyi, who was blind as a damn dog and failed to see that beneath your beautiful appearance was nothing but disgusting filth and despicability."
"."
Zhuo Minglan stared at Lu Junyi