"Of course." Zhou Mei leaned in with a smile and carefully examined the sweater on Yang Aiguo, "Oh, this is hand-knitted, and it's mohair! This yarn isn't cheap."
I wonder which little girl knitted this for Yang Aiguo.
A hint of smugness flashed through Zhou Mei's eyes.
The marriage between Wang Shuyun and Yang Aiguo had been a mere formality for years. People used to envy Wang Shuyun's good fortune; even so, Yang Aiguo didn't fool around and just stayed with her like a monk.
Which woman in the Capital City didn't envy Wang Shuyun when talking about her?
Turns out the monk couldn't hold on any longer.
Zhou Mei felt she had uncovered the truth.
"Really? I didn't know that." Yang Aiguo said and continued the previous conversation with Yang Aihua.
