018 My woman, who dares to say she's ugly

He couldn't be more familiar with that medicine.

Staring straight at the bottle, Yigol Foster then slapped his underling on the head, "Hey, are you looking for death? You think she's just an ordinary woman? She's your sister-in-law."

"Bro, she can only be our sister-in-law after becoming your woman. It's been two months, not to mention laying a finger on her, you haven't even held hands. When will this go somewhere, bro? Besides, don't all women eat the same stuff, lose their innocence, and then accept their fate? At that time, you just need to apologize, admit softness, and perform a humble act in front of her, and you'll definitely be able to coax her into marrying you."

"Yeah, bro, Black Peter is right."

"Yeah, bro, just do what Black Peter says."

"Bro, we support you."

"Bro, we're waiting to eat your wedding candies with your sister-in-law, so hurry up."

One after another, Foster's gang and bodyguards echoed Black Peter's suggestion, bombarding Yigol Foster.

As the saying goes, when three people talk about a tiger, it becomes real; hearing it repeated enough times, Yigol Foster's heart inevitably wavered. He raised his eyebrows, looking at Black Peter, who appeared flaky and irreverent.

After a while, he took the cigar out of his mouth, blew the smoke in Black Peter's face, and patted his cheek, "Not bad, I didn't pamper you in vain."

Black Peter's face lit up with joy, "Bro, you agree?"

"Wait for it. Act on the spur of the moment."

"Alright, bro."

Of course, Forsythia Brown had no idea that Yigol Foster and his gang were discussing their sleazy plans. She only knew that Yigol Foster was coming to see her.

This was a safehouse, and she was about to entertain a group of people on the fringes who were being targeted by the criminal investigation team?

Fine, Forsythia decided to at least put up a front.

She piled up the cleaning tools in the courtyard as disorderly as possible.

The second floor was exclusively hers, and without her permission, they would definitely not go up there. Even if they drooled and went up, there wouldn't be much on the second floor.

The main thing was the first floor, that cabinet full of clutter.

If someone in that group of underlings fiddled with it and accidentally triggered the mechanism, that would be trouble.

With that thought, she turned her eyes and immediately walked a circle in the courtyard, swept up a bit of dust, and brought it to the clutter cabinet, blowing it onto the cabinet.

Instantly, a layer of dust settled on the cabinet, making it look like it hadn't been used for a hundred years.

She looked left and right, thinking it was good enough, but just as she clapped her hands to congratulate herself on her method, she suddenly had doubts.

Yigol Foster's actions were hard to predict when he went crazy.

If Yigol Foster thought her house was too dirty and ordered his underlings to clean it for her, the dust-covered clutter cabinet would undoubtedly become the focus of the cleanup, making accidents even more likely.

Considering this, Forsythia decided to give the first floor a thorough cleaning.

So, she put on an apron, fetched water, put on gloves, and cleaned the dust from the clutter cabinet, then neatly arranged the items on it.

Next, she gave the first floor a complete cleanup, almost to the point of spotlessness.

Leaning on her sore waist, Forsythia sighed deeply: How strong must one's heart be to entertain the head of the Red Blossom Society here?

She raised her arm and sniffed her clothes: They smell awful.

So, she quickly took a combat bath.

Should she prepare a table of good food and wine for them?

Standing at the kitchen door, looking at the kitchen that had only been used a few times, Forsythia couldn't help but exclaim: It's really hard to be an informant, it's like being in a spy drama.

Nevermind, if they really wanted to stay for dinner, she could just call and order food.

As Forsythia was pondering, a deafening roar of motorcycle engines sounded outside.

Most people living in Urban Villages didn't have great conditions and could barely afford a motorcycle, let alone several.

It must be them.

Forsythia hurriedly ran out and opened the courtyard door.

As expected, four flashy motorcycles led the way, followed by a blue Pagani, which Forsythia knew to be Yigol Foster's ride. Behind the Pagani were two black Santanas.

Wherever Yigol Foster went, there was a lot of fanfare. With his underlings and bodyguards never leaving his side, it looked like a presidential procession. And those who followed him long-term were his most trusted people, never discussing anything out of line.

"Hello, sister-in-law."

"Hello, sister-in-law."

The underlings and bodyguards, while carrying flower baskets and fruit baskets, greeted Forsythia as they entered the courtyard.

Forsythia's face darkened, "Don't call me sister-in-law."

"Alright, sister-in-law."

Forsythia rolled her eyes, indeed like master like servant, these underlings were as shameless as Yigol Foster.

Soon after, many boxes of various sizes were carried down from the Santanas.

As it turned out, Yigol Foster had been very considerate, knowing that Forsythia hadn't had dinner yet, so he specially ordered a tableful of good food and wine from the Golden Jade Hall in advance.

The underlings moved quickly, not waiting for Forsythia's directions, and carried the dishes into the living room on the first floor, laying them out on the not-so-large wooden table as if they were at home.

Forsythia watched speechlessly as the group of people treated her hideout like their home, coming in and out freely.

While two of the underlings were arranging the dishes, Black Peter and several other underlings were examining the safe house, not sparing the second floor.

Finally, after thoroughly checking her hideout from top to bottom and inside and out, Black Peter walked up to Forsythia with a grin on his face, gave her a thumbs up, and praised, "As expected of a cleaner, this place is so bright and clean."

With such flattery, Forsythia's cheeks flushed, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

"Sister-in-law, that Martial Arts Room upstairs must be yours, no wonder your martial arts skills are so good."

"Sister-in-law, your kitchen is too crude."

"People are made of iron, and meals are made of steel. If you don't eat a meal, you'll panic. Sister-in-law, the kitchen is the most important thing."

"Sister-in-law..."

Compared to these cheery underlings, the two bodyguards following Yigol Foster were more loyal to their duties, not snooping around, but standing like utility poles in the courtyard.

Soon, the dishes were arranged, and a feast similar to Manchu Han Imperial Feast was laid out on the table, with the leftovers placed on makeshift tables formed by stacking chairs together.

"Bro, sister-in-law, please take your seats."

Black Peter eagerly called on Yigol Foster and Forsythia to take their seats.

Only when everyone was seated at the table did Yigol Foster look at Forsythia and say, "That's enough, stop covering it up. Let me see."

"Better not look, it's so ugly."

Yigol Foster looked at Forsythia's outfit. As always, casual attire. However, perhaps proving the saying 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder', he found her more attractive than those elaborately dressed, branded women, and of course, infinitely more attractive than those women who didn't wear clothes at all.

"My woman, who dares say she's ugly."