She stretched out her hand to cover his mouth, "Don't sing, I don't want to endure that torment again."
"I sing very well..."
"Sing well my ass. To write such 'Divine Songs', it really makes those who hear them wish they could dig up Nan Liufeng's grave several more times. Thankfully, someone has already dug it up; all that's left is to find his bones and smash them."
"Wife, I didn't expect you to praise the mountain songs written by the great hermit Nan Liufeng, even calling them Divine Songs. Wife, how did you come up with such a creative phrase as Divine Songs..."
"Third brother, stop talking about that good-for-nothing Nan Liufeng. Just thinking about the mountain songs he wrote makes me want to kill someone."
"Wife..." He wanted to say that actually, he thought the hermit was quite talented in writing mountain songs, but if his wife didn't like them, then forget it. A good husband wouldn't go against his wife's wishes.