BTYFOV Chapter 53

Chapter 53: Shaving the Head in the First Lunar Month

Never Heard of "Killing the Mother"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Qin Feng: "……"

Madam Zhou had a complicated expression on her face.

Miaomiao couldn't help but curl his lips.

Old Qin couldn't bear to look at her smug expression, so he tugged at Madam Zhou and Gu Wuyi on either side of him.

Madam Zhou pulled Fu Lingyun by the arm and headed home.

Madam Qian took a couple of steps forward and stopped at Qin Feng's doorstep. "What’s wrong? Feeling embarrassed?"

Qin Feng found it odd—what exactly was his aunt made of?

Why was she always asking for trouble?

He couldn't help but size her up.

Madam Qian, feeling quite pleased with herself, asked, "Big scholar, have you ever seen a watermelon in winter?"

Qin Feng immediately wanted to roll his eyes. Did she have no shame?

"Your son sure is filial," he commented.

Madam Qian said proudly, "Of course! The corners of my mouth keep getting inflamed every few days. My son said I should eat watermelon because winter watermelons help reduce internal heat."

Qin Feng couldn't help but chuckle. "This is the first time I've heard of that."

"You mean there are things even a big scholar like you doesn’t know?" His second aunt chimed in.

Qin Feng silently reminded himself not to lash out. This wasn’t a good enough reason to start a fight. But swallowing his anger? That was tough.

Suddenly, an idea came to him. "There are plenty of things I don't know," he said. "For example, do you know exactly how much of their earnings your sons hand over to you and how much they secretly keep for themselves?"

The two sisters-in-law's expressions changed instantly.

Since they were older, they couldn’t help their sons with restocking or selling clothes, so whatever their sons claimed to have earned, they had to accept. Because of this, they often suspected that their sons were only giving them 30%—or even just 10%—of their earnings.

Seeing their reactions, Qin Feng knew his bluff had hit the mark. "One trip’s earnings should be enough for you to eat watermelon for a whole month, right?" He gave them a once-over. "And yet you’re showing off just one slice? You really are easy to fool."

"You—!" Madam Qian raised a finger at him. "You’re the one who’s easy to fool!"

Qin Feng smirked. "At least I know I’m being fooled. You don’t."

"Qin Feng, you brat, don’t you dare stir up trouble!"

Hearing the voice, Qin Feng turned to see his eldest cousin stepping out of the house, holding a watermelon.

Truthfully, his earlier words were meant to stir the pot.

But the fact that his cousin was so flustered only confirmed that he probably hadn’t even handed over 10% of his earnings. "Dare to swear on it?" Qin Feng challenged. "They say the gods are watching from above."

"You’re a scholar, and you actually believe in that?"

Qin Feng replied calmly, "That just shows your ignorance. Haven’t you heard? ‘At the limits of science lies theology.’"

"Cut the nonsense," his cousin snapped impatiently, unwilling to debate.

Qin Feng smirked. "So you won’t answer directly?" He turned back to Madam Qian. "Have you ever checked your son’s pockets? No? Then where do you think the money goes?"

The moment he said that, Madam Qian immediately thought of her daughter-in-law.

Because Qin Feng’s eldest cousin’s wife had once caused a big family dispute over splitting assets, Madam Qian had never liked her.

Now that the topic had shifted to her, Madam Qian lost interest in showing off and rushed home instead—storming off like she was going to settle a blood feud.

His eldest cousin pointed at him. "You just wait!"

Qin Feng asked with a smile, "Are you waiting to be caught by the Public Security Bureau for eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling?"

"What did you say?" His older cousin suddenly turned around.

Qin Feng wasn’t speaking without reason.

Unlike him, his cousins had never experienced everything in a past life. Nor were they like Uncle Lin, the watermelon farmer, who was honest and practical, saving every penny he earned in the bank. Instead, they loved to show off.

Even if they hadn’t indulged in prostitution and gambling, their eagerness to buy and flaunt watermelons as soon as they hit the market suggested they must have been showing off outside as well.

"Saying that you eat and drink a lot? Or do you want me to say that you are whoring and gambling?”

"You’re the one whoring and gambling!"

Qin Feng chuckled. “I can get paid for my whoring. Can you say the same?"

At that moment, his cousin seriously suspected that Qin Feng was mocking him for being incapable!

A man being incapable was no different from being a eunuch.

His cousin's face turned bright red. He raised his fist, ready to punch Qin Feng.

"Boss, get in here!"

Madam Qian’s domineering voice rang out.

His eldest cousin paused mid-step, pointed at Qin Feng, and said, "I'll settle this with you later!"

"Settle things with your mother first," Qin Feng replied as he turned to his second aunt.

His second aunt’s sons once again witnessed the power of his smooth tongue, effortlessly stirring up trouble. They hurriedly dragged their mother into the house.

Qin Feng looked at his father. "Let's go."

Old Qin led his two grandsons inside. Qin Feng followed behind, holding Miaomiao’s hand, and closed the door behind them, ignoring the people outside.

In winter, there was no farm work to do. Everything was frozen over, and even bricklayers had stopped working. Life was dull, and not just for him— even if the village chief came to shoo them away, they still wouldn’t go home.

However, just as Qin Feng reached the main hall entrance, he heard a heavy thud.

It was unclear whether it was his sister-in-law or his aunt who had thrown something.

Qin Feng figured that this time, the family would probably split up.

As expected, before dinner was even ready, he was outside chopping firewood for his father when he saw the village chief, the team leader, and several elders from the Qin family heading next door to Madam Qian’s house.

Thinking about the upcoming fight—whether verbal or physical—Qin Feng couldn’t help but chuckle.

Miaomiao tilted his head and looked at him. “Dad, how are you so good at arguing?”

Qin Feng grinned. “Want to know the trick?”

The young boy eagerly nodded.

Qin Feng said, “Just say whatever comes to mind.”

“Huh?”

The boy was stunned.

Qin Feng nodded. “If they say something and you just answer obediently, you’ll never win. But if you steer the conversation in a completely different direction, they’ll end up following your train of thought— and once that happens, they’re not far from losing.”

Gu Xiao’er found this intriguing. “What if they say east and you say west?”

“So what? You’re already in an argument— are you expecting them to give you a score and praise you? Arguments are about being yourself. Otherwise, even if you were a negotiation expert, you still wouldn’t be able to win against my aunt, that shameless loudmouth.”

Gu Xiao’er couldn't help but doubt him.

Qin Feng said, “Would your old man lie to you? If you don’t believe me, ask your grandma—how many people actually argue with logic? Most of the time, it’s like this: you say a steamed bun is round, they say it’s fragrant. You say their bun isn’t as fragrant as yours, they’ll say they didn’t make it. Now tell me, does fragrance have anything to do with who made it? That’s what arguing is.”

Gu Xiao’er couldn’t help but say, “Isn’t that just making trouble for no reason?”

Qin Feng nodded. “Exactly! Whoever makes the most trouble wins.”

Gu Xiao’er was left speechless.

Qin Feng wanted to ruffle his hair but noticed the wood shavings on his hands. “Take the firewood I just chopped inside and ask your grandma about it while you’re at it.”

Gu Xiao’er immediately picked up some firewood and ran to the kitchen.

Miaomiao followed behind, carrying two pieces of wood in his little hands.

Gu Wuyi and the others, curious, couldn’t help but follow to eavesdrop.

In an instant, Qin Feng was the only one left outside.

He shook his head and chuckled. These little brats had no interest in serious matters but were completely fascinated by these messy little tricks.

Since the New Year preparations required a lot of supplies—steamed buns, dumplings, fried meatballs, braised meats—just one day’s cooking would burn through a pile of firewood. So, Qin Feng raised his axe and continued chopping.

With an axe in his hands, the people from both courtyards dared not provoke him.

But they still weren’t completely well-behaved. As they entered the house, they either smirked at him or shot him dirty looks.

Qin Feng suddenly found it amusing how cowardly these people were, like frightened turtles. And when he thought about their ugly expressions, he no longer felt angry or frustrated.

Meanwhile, the people from both courtyards were seething with rage.

Qin Feng’s eldest uncle and aunt never imagined their son would actually keep secrets from them. The moment money was mentioned, all their sons wanted to split from the family.

His second uncle and aunt hadn’t expected that after seeing the eldest brother’s family separate, their own sons would also bring up the idea of dividing the household.

Back when the family had little money, food supplies were fixed, and dividing the household was simple.

Now, Qin Feng’s eldest uncle’s youngest son suspected that his eldest brother had more money than him. Meanwhile, the eldest brother suspected that his two younger brothers were wealthier than he was. They kept arguing back and forth, and by the time the New Year had passed, they still hadn’t settled the matter.

The elders didn’t get their hands on any money, and the younger generation failed to split the household. As a result, both families spent New Year’s Eve and the first day of the new year in a miserable atmosphere, as if someone had died at home.

Even Madam Qian, who usually loved to show off their meals before she had even finished eating, kept quiet this time. She believed that all the neighbors were just waiting to laugh at her family’s misfortune.

During the days before and after the New Year, they sneaked in and out like thieves, afraid someone would ask whether they had settled the division yet.

Thanks to this, Qin Feng enjoyed a peaceful New Year.

On the evening of the second day of the new year, the family sat down to eat leftovers from New Year’s Eve and the first day of the year.

Old Qin couldn’t help but sigh, “This New Year sure was quiet.”

Qin Feng replied, “It’ll be even quieter from now on.”

“What do you mean?” his mother instinctively asked.

Qin Feng glanced toward the east. “Their house has been standing for about thirty years now, right?”

Old Qin nodded. “It’s older than ours. Our house is nearly twenty years old now.”

“Do you think your nephews, who love to show off as soon as they have money, will still be satisfied with that house?”

Old Qin shook his head.

Madam Zhou said, “Building a new house? That’ll cause even more family disputes.”

Qin Feng laughed.

His mother looked at him in confusion.

Qin Feng said, “Didn’t Dad mention that Wang Genbao bought two storefronts in the city? Don’t you think they’d be envious?”

Madam Zhou suddenly understood and couldn't help but say, “So in a few days, the only ones left at home will be those four old folks?” She glanced toward the east and west courtyards.

Qin Feng nodded.

Madam Zhou was delighted. “Serves them right!” Then she asked, “They won’t end up like Old Man Zhao, struggling to get a meal, will they?”

Old Qin said, “Old Man Zhao isn’t like them. He wasn’t nearly as restless as they are.”

Madam Zhou nodded. “Old Man Zhao’s son went astray, but these people brought this on themselves.”

Gu Wuyi took a sip of egg soup, feeling warm and comfortable. Then he asked, “Isn’t it still Old Man Zhao’s fault for not raising his son properly?”

Qin Feng couldn’t help but laugh.

Gu Wuyi instinctively reviewed what he had just said—there was nothing wrong with it.

Old Qin, sitting next to his eldest grandson, reached out to pat his small head. “Don’t be fooled just because Wuli Villiage and the Beiche Factory residential compound are only separated by a road—one is rural, the other urban. Rural folks don’t raise children as carefully as city folks do. They just let them grow however they turn out.”

Gu Wuyi couldn’t help but glance at his father.

Old Qin continued, “I barely had time to manage your father beyond keeping an eye on his grades. Back in those days, we were poor. I didn’t just have to teach; I also had to earn work points. During the slack farming season, I had to search for food everywhere. I often had to get up early and walk more than ten miles to the coast to scavenge.”

Gu Wuyi tried to imagine it, and the more he thought about it, the more it reminded him of the time in his past life when he escaped from his aunt’s house and lived under a bridge. “That poor?”

Qin Feng said, “During the late '50s and early '60s, the country was struggling with internal and external troubles—everyone was poor. Even the propaganda officer at the Northern Railway Factory could only afford a single cornbread and a portion of boiled cabbage per meal. Engineers like your grandfather were lucky to get even a couple of ounces of meat in a week. Sometimes, when they were so hungry that they felt dizzy, they’d drink sugar water—but only a tiny amount, just like how we season food with salt now. Every household dug up their garden flowers to plant vegetables instead.”

Madam Zhou agreed. “People my age all borrowed vegetable seeds from our village back then. Later, when life got better, or maybe just because they were too tired to tend the garden after work, the factory stopped maintaining the vegetable patches. Instead, they planted osmanthus trees, roses, and other ornamental plants.”

Gu Wuyi suddenly understood. “No wonder those osmanthus trees are so small.”

Fu Qingyun glanced toward the east and west courtyards. “So were their kids raised the same way—just left to grow on their own?”

Qin Feng shook his head. “Not entirely. Think about it—have my cousins always been like this, or did they change in the past few years?”

Gu Wuyi recalled that four years ago, Old Qin’s older and second brother, Qin Laoda and Qin Lao’er had the final say in everything at home. Even Qin Laoda’s daughter-in-law had to beg Madam Qian just to buy a small bag of sweets to bring to her parents’ house. She was treated like a servant girl in a landlord’s household. “They weren’t like this before. Even their daughters-in-law hiding money for themselves was something they were forced into.”

Fu Qingyun had arrived later and didn’t know what the two families had been like before. Hearing this, he couldn’t help but say, “No wonder Grandma said they deserved it.”

Madam Zhou, overhearing this, worried he might feel softhearted. “Qingyun, even if they end up as pitiful as Old Zhao, you’re not allowed to feel sorry for them.”

Fu Qingyun laughed. “How could I?”

Madam Zhou shook her head. “You’re all good kids. When the time comes, you might not be able to help it.”

Qin Feng chuckled. “Instead of worrying about them, you should worry about yourself.”

Madam Zhou scoffed. “Me? I’d be happy if they just dropped dead.”

Qin Feng turned to his father. “Do you believe that?”

Old Qin said indifferently, “We’ll see when the time comes. Who knows, your mother and I might not even live that long.”

Qin Feng frowned.

Old Qin continued, “Good people don’t live long, while troublemakers live for a thousand years.”

Qin Feng was momentarily speechless.

Miaomiao couldn’t help but chime in, “Then I don’t want to be a good person. Grandpa shouldn’t be a good person either.”

Old Qin’s breath caught. Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected himself, “Grandpa was just joking. Good people may not live long in this life, but they’ll be born into good families in the next. You must have been a very good child in your past life.”

"Grandpa, how do you know?" The young boy was curious.

Qin Feng replied, "Because you're my son."

Miaomiao was stunned for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Daddy is the best!" Then, unable to resist teasing him, he added, "You're praising yourself! Daddy, your skin is so thick."

Qin Feng playfully pinched the child's cheeks.

The boy immediately stopped joking and hurriedly pointed at the food with his chopsticks—

I want to eat!

Qin Feng let go and turned to his mother. "Once the sheep are sold, don’t raise any more."

Madam Zhou frowned. "Sheep only need grass to eat."

"But when the weather warms up, they’ll need to be taken out to graze every day, right? Besides, sheep are docile—if a thief sneaks in at night and carries them off, you wouldn't even know."

Madam Zhou was unwilling to give up. "By that logic, we shouldn’t keep cattle either?"

Qin Feng shook his head. "Cattle need to be led by hand, and most people wouldn't dare to kill them. They’re hard to hide, and if they go missing, the police will investigate."

Old Man Qin agreed. "The boy’s right."

"What about pigs?" Madam Zhou asked.

Qin Feng considered it. The kids were growing up, the family only had four acres of land, and his parents didn't have to worry about money. His father was already so idle that he had taken up collecting junk. If he stopped his mother from raising pigs, she’d have nothing to do but watch over a single cow and some chickens and ducks that didn’t even need feeding.

And if she had too much free time, she’d either start snooping around his house for money or run around town trying to set him up with potential wives.

"Do whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to buy pig feed."

Madam Zhou rolled her eyes at him. "We have a three-wheeler. Why would I need you?"

Qin Feng chuckled.

Old Qin couldn’t help but back up his son. "That’s not what you said when you bought it."

Madam Zhou pretended to forget and simply picked up a steamed bun to continue eating.

After the meal, the elderly couple wouldn’t let them clean up, so Qin Feng took the children home.

Children have delicate skin, and in winter, washing too much could cause frostbite, making them itch so badly they couldn’t sleep at night.

Gu Wuyi was already in his third year of middle school—he couldn’t afford to lose sleep.

On the way home, Qin Feng thought of this and, while Gu Wuyi was using the public restroom, gathered the kids together. He told them to help Gu Wuyi out over the next six months and to stop irritating him so much.

Miaomiao, seeing his father directing the words at him, immediately protested loudly, "When have I ever annoyed Big Brother?"

Qin Feng said, "How old are you now? Nine, right? From now on, bathe yourself. Stop waiting for Wuyi to bring you the bathwater and even help you wash."

Hearing this, Qin Miaomiao had no argument but still felt unwilling. He muttered under his breath, "Big Brother insists on helping me wash."

"If you could wash yourself properly, who would need to help you?" Qin Feng countered.

Qin Miaomiao huffed and stomped upstairs.

"Not washing your feet?" Qin Feng reminded him.

The boy halted, turned around, and made a funny face at him.

Qin Feng raised his hand as if to smack him.

Frightened, the boy quickly grabbed one of his older brothers and ran to the kitchen.

Fu Lingyun, while mixing hot and cold water for him, said, "Next time, before pouring water to wash your face, check the thermos. Use the one with less water first so you don’t drop it and burn yourself. If there’s a kettle on the stove, use the hot water from that instead. Pour it out first, then add cold water. If you let it boil dry, Dad will punish you, and we won’t help you out."

"You’re still my brother?"

Fu Lingyun said, "In the future, I’ll also go to City No. 1 High School and live in the dorm like Big Brother. Dad will be working overtime, and you’ll be home alone. What are you going to do if you don’t know anything?"

Miaomiao had no response.

Seeing that he was listening, Fu Lingyun continued, "If you don’t learn, what will you do when you get to City No. 1 High School? Even though I’m only a grade above you, our dorms might be far apart."

"Why?"

Fu Lingyun explained, "I heard City No. 1 High School is twice as big as No. 2 High School. It has four student dormitory buildings alone."

Miaomiao’s eyes widened in surprise. "That many students?"

Fu Lingyun nodded. "That’s what I heard. There are twenty classes just in the first-year level. A single building has three floors, and each floor only fits eighteen classes."

Miaomiao was confused again. "Then why did Big Brother say City No. 1 High School is hard to get into?"

Fu Lingyun replied, "As long as you score well, it doesn’t matter whether you’re from a town middle school or a city middle school—you can still get into City No. 1 High School. What do you think?"

Miaomiao thought for a moment. "If we take the bus to the seaside, can kids from there also go to City No. 1 High School?"

"That area is also part of Binhai City."

"So many people," Miaomiao sighed. "Then I really have to study hard."

Fu Lingyun handed him a cup. "Exactly. Now do you understand why Dad doesn’t want us to bother Big Brother?"

Miaomiao finally understood.

Before bed, he went downstairs to the restroom. On his way back, he noticed that the light in Gu Wuyi’s room was still on. The boy washed his hands, then turned toward the kitchen next to the restroom.

He rummaged through the cabinet, found some biscuits, and went upstairs carrying the biscuits in one arm and a thermos in the other.

Since the house was full of men, and his father, who gave him a strong sense of security, was upstairs, Gu Wuyi never locked his door—whether during the day or at night.

Miaomiao gently pushed the door open. He slipped inside and saw his big brother writing something.

He tiptoed closer and was surprised to find him copying down ancient poems. His eyes flickered mischievously as he reached out and patted Gu Wuyi on the shoulder.

Gu Wuyi was so startled that he jumped up.

Seeing it was just Miaomiao, he let out a relieved sigh, grabbed his arm, and gave him a light smack on the backside. "You little troublemaker!"

"I brought you something tasty!" Miaomiao easily slipped out of his grasp, picked up the box he had placed on the bed, and pointed at the cup on the desk. "Pour some hot water over it before eating."

Gu Wuyi was surprised and felt a bit touched, but he still had to be honest. "I already brushed my teeth."

"Just rinse your mouth after eating. If neither of us says anything, who’s going to know?" Miaomiao said while reaching for the thermos to pour hot water.

Gu Wuyi quickly took the thermos from him. "I’ll do it myself. Are you hungry?"

Miaomiao wasn’t hungry, but seeing the biscuits soften in the water, he couldn’t help but swallow.

Gu Wuyi brought a piece to his mouth.

Just like when he was little, Miaomiao opened his mouth wide and ate the softened biscuit in one bite.

Gu Wuyi put the unsoaked half into his own mouth. "Tastes good?"

Miaomiao nodded enthusiastically. Then, noticing his brother’s pen, he said, "Big Brother, you go ahead and eat. I’m feeling sleepy now."

Gu Wuyi soaked another piece. "Eat one more."

Miaomiao shook his head. But now, having shaken off his sleepiness, he didn’t want to go back to bed right away. Instead, he curiously looked around his brother’s bedroom.

He noticed a small bulge under the blanket and reached out to touch it. It was a large hot water bottle.

Gu Wuyi said, "Take it out."

"Why?"

"Warm your hands with it. You can put it back after you leave."

The boy thought about it—if he took out the hot water bottle, his brother’s bed would get cold. “I’ll warm up your bed for you,” he offered.

Gu Wuyi wasn’t in the mood to chat and just wanted to finish writing so he could sleep. “Fine.”

However, by the time he finished, Qin Miaomiao had already fallen asleep in his bed.

Gu Wuyi tried to carry him but couldn’t. He thought about calling Qin Feng, but when he checked the study next door, it was empty. Instead, he noticed that Fu Lingyun’s bedroom light was still on.

So, he told Fu Lingyun that Miaomiao would be sleeping with him tonight.

Fu Lingyun wasn’t surprised at all. He just waved his small hand dismissively and burrowed back into his blanket to continue reading.

Gu Wuyi was curious—what book had him so absorbed?

He walked over, lifted the blanket, and snatched it away. “You’re too young to be reading wuxia novels.”

“Dad gave it to me!”

Gu Wuyi raised an eyebrow. “At most, he saw you take it and didn’t say anything. I’ll hold onto it for now—you can read it tomorrow.”

“But it’s at the best part! How am I supposed to sleep if I don’t finish it?”

Gu Wuyi ignored him, turned off the light, and closed the door on his way out.

Fu Lingyun was so frustrated that he stomped on the bed.

Just as the sound faded, the door suddenly opened again, startling him.

Gu Wuyi switched the light back on. “If you don’t sleep now, I’ll have Dad lock up all these books tomorrow.”

Fu Lingyun instantly wilted. He pulled the blanket over his head in surrender.

Gu Wuyi was satisfied.

The next morning, Miaomiao opened his eyes, saw his big brother, and was completely stunned. “Why are you in my bed?”

Gu Wuyi got up. “Look carefully.”

Miaomiao turned his head, looked around, and suddenly sat up. “I fell asleep?”

"Otherwise, what do you think happened? Do you think I carried you over from the other bed? I can’t even lift you." Gu Wuyi asked while putting on his clothes. "Can you dress yourself?"  

Miaomiao instinctively wanted to shake his head, but then he remembered that his dad didn’t allow him to trouble his big brother. "I’m already nine years old! If you count the traditional way in the village, I’m ten. If I still can’t dress myself, how am I any different from a three-year-old?"  

Gu Wuyi nodded. "Are we still going to Grandpa’s house?"  

Miaomiao nodded eagerly. "I’ll keep practicing until school starts. I wish I could just wake up and it’d be the sixteenth of the first month already."  

Gu Wuyi patted his little head. "Your hair’s getting long—you need a haircut."  

Fu Qingyun came out from the opposite room. "No way! If you shave your hair before the fifteenth of the first lunar month, your uncle will die!"  

Miaomiao couldn’t help but ask, "Really?"  

"That’s what people in the village say."  

Miaomiao jumped out of bed, slipped on his shoes, and ran off to pound on his dad’s door. "Wake up, wake up! Engineer Qin, wake up! The sun’s shining on your butt already!"  

Qin Feng, who was enjoying a rare winter break and planning to sleep in, suddenly had the urge to throw him off the second floor. "You better have a good reason for this!"  

The door opened, and Qin Feng’s face was as dark as iron.  

The boy quickly hid behind his third brother. "If I shave my head, my uncle will die!"  

Qin Feng was stunned. "Your uncle?"  

The boy nodded.  

"Do you even know who your uncle is?"  

The boy shook his head. "I don’t! That’s why he’ll die." He paused for a moment, then curiously asked, "Dad, when do you cut your hair so Mom dies?"  

Qin Feng opened his mouth, at a loss for words. He chuckled, both amused and exasperated. "Did your mom ever offend you?"

“Don’t want me, and won’t even send me to Dad. Making me a little monk—how is that not an offense?" Miaomiao widened his eyes, looking as if he would bite Qin Feng if he dared to shake his head.

Qin Feng didn’t bother to correct the child—what he said might very well be the truth. "I’ve never heard of ‘killing the mother.’"

"Then let’s just stick with ‘killing the uncle,’" Miaomiao reluctantly agreed.

PREV                    TOC                    NEXT