Fang Yao's cooking was poisonous

"Hey, your wife isn't going to tank my show, is she? I'm counting on it being a hit." Young Master Zhang took a melancholy drag on his cigarette.

He watched the smoke hanging in the air.

Bo Hanmo had no choice but to put down his pen. "Oh, give it a rest. Don't pin the blame on my wife. It's your fault for not checking how low those people would stoop before casting them. If you want a hit, you'd better pray my wife can save it."

"Put that cigarette out."

As the smoke nearly curled around his hands, Bo Hanmo frowned and waved it away.

Young Master Zhang saw the threat in Bo Hanmo's eyes, glanced at the cigarette in his hand, then looked back at the man Bo Hanmo had become.

He grumbled, "Oh, so having a wife makes you special? Having someone keeping you in line makes you special? You won't even let me smoke now. Your wife bosses you around, so you're going to boss us around?"

Despite his complaints, Young Master Zhang obediently stubbed out his cigarette and opened the window, looking down at the ant-sized people below.

Young Master Zhang turned to confront Bo Hanmo, then tipped his head back and gazed mournfully at the ceiling.

Ever since Bo Hanmo had married, none of his peers had been able to escape their families' pressure to get married. Young Master Zhang shuddered.

He still couldn't forget how his family had lined up every kind of woman imaginable to get him married.

"Because I want to. You think I actually enjoy policing you? My wife doesn't like the smell of smoke on me. It makes her feel sick." Bo Hanmo rolled his eyes at Young Master Zhang.

He made it sound as though there was something