Mu Dazhong glanced at Mrs. Lin, whose face was swollen like a pig's head, now magnified countless times, as if it could make someone puke up their food from last night.
Especially when Mrs. Lin unexpectedly put on a girlish bashfulness, Mu Dazhong just felt like vomiting.
This woman, already an old cucumber in her thirties, acting like a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl every day, doesn't even consider how ridiculous she looks.
Without a response from Mu Dazhong, Mrs. Lin stretched out her hand, touched Mu Dazhong's chest, and seemed to want to reach inside, but faced with the pig-headed face, Mu Dazhong just couldn't do it.
"Alright, enough, stop thinking about that nonsense all the time, we have work tomorrow."
After saying this, Mu Dazhong turned over and lay flat on the kang, occupying two-thirds of the space with his sprawled posture, squeezing Mu Qingqing and Gou Dan into the corner by the wall, but Mrs. Lin didn't think anything was wrong.
