"Right," Gu Changsheng glared at Yue Xilou once more, wiped his face, grabbed his son, and led the way out. "Let's go, son, we're off to do a face mask."
Those sentimental, poetic moods really weren't Gu Changsheng's forte!
Because they honestly didn't suit his image at all!
"Mom, why were you crying just now?" Little Meat Bun, completely clueless about reading the room, asked openly and honestly.
Gu Changsheng, while sitting on a stone bench and mixing the medicinal mask clay, paused and looked up spiritedly at Xiao Cui. "Xiao Cui, did my son never wear 'eyebrow shoes' when he was little?"
Otherwise, how could he be so oblivious, rubbing salt into people's wounds?
Xiao Cui pursed her lips and looked down, replying, "I don't know..."
She really didn't know!