The Dense Fog Rolls In

The last day of the twelfth lunar month was the final commercial peak before businesses closed for the Spring Festival, and the shopping districts in Shanghai were bustling.

Pintuan's year-end marketing campaign had smoothly entered its final stage. Aside from the staff on duty, everyone else in Pintuan Industrial Park had already returned home for the holidays.

At that moment, Jiang Qin stood in the master bedroom's bathroom, watching the technician install the newly purchased washbasin. He thanked him.

The washbasin in their home had collapsed yesterday.

The indirect cause was that Jiang Ainan had spent the night at her aunt's house and hadn't come back.

As for the direct cause, Jiang Qin said Feng Nanshu had sat it down, and even called her a fat girl. The Little Rich Woman had looked aggrieved at the time, feeling that she hadn't crushed it by sitting on it—it had been her brother who knocked it over.

But when all was said and done, both of them had contributed.

"Jiang Qin, the color of this sink isn't nice."

"It is a little mismatched, but the wooden countertop won't feel cold on your butt. I had it specially made."

"?"

Feng Nanshu was dazed for a while before suddenly remembering the times she'd been lifted onto it and cried out that it was cold. She immediately pounded on him, muttering that Brother was too addicted to it.

She especially liked being intimate with Jiang Qin, but refused to admit she was addicted to it. Jiang Qin was the same.

A little after eight in the morning, after the washbasin had been repaired, Auntie led Jiang Ainan over from across the street.

Yuan Youqin and Jiang Zhenghong's plane had already landed. They were spending the Spring Festival here this year, so she brought their