Evening after work.
Returning home, He Fang was stewing pork rib soup with a pressure cooker. The kitchen buzzer was ringing nonstop, and she sat listlessly on the sofa, flipping through TV channels with the remote.
Qin Guanglin set his bag to one side and moved closer to take a good look at her eyes, feeling inexplicably joyful.
"So you can miscalculate too."
"Huh?" He Fang looked puzzled.
"Hehe… smells good. What are you making?"
He deftly changed the subject.
Before, he thought she was so capable, always nagging him to quit his job as if she had foreseen some issue with the company or that the job wasn't good. Now, it seemed she completely miscalculated.
Direct hit!
But he still wanted to save her some face—who doesn't misstep every now and then?
