He Qimo never expected that after leaving home for 4 hours, 25 minutes, and 36 seconds, he would appear again in his own villa.
With arms akimbo, he looked at the villa, which had been thrown into chaos.
And his mother, holding a handkerchief, was crying on the sofa, looking pitiful and tearful.
The servants stood with their heads lowered in fear, none of them daring to look up.
He glared with eyes cold enough to shoot out ice shards.
"What's going on?" Eventually, he rubbed his temples and spoke, looking at the "woman" sitting on the other side.
Shen Jian妮 pouted and said, "It's not my fault; you asked me to wash and iron your clothes."
Instantly Zhou Huimei couldn't help but cry out like a cat that had its tail stepped on, "But Qi Mo didn't say you should kill me with the steam iron! Nor did he say you should smash all the glass, porcelain, and antiques in the house!"
"Why would I smash if you weren't chasing me?"
"Why would I chase you if you didn't try to steam iron me?"
