"Oh, oh, okay, I'm coming."
With the help of Huang Zhiyi, Li Yilan took two photo albums from the bookshelf. Then, she wandered around the room, placed the albums in a drawer of the wardrobe, locked it, and put the key in her pocket, finally feeling relieved.
"Later, I'll put the key in my own bedroom, so my sister-in-law definitely won't find out!"
"..."
"Come on, let's make a call, why are you just standing there daydreaming?"
Huang Zhiyi suddenly stood still, looking deeply troubled: "Aunt, even with this, do you think they won't argue this year?"
Memories are like pulling out radishes; as you pull them out, it's inevitable to bring up some dirt or those ugly, twisted little insects hidden in the soil.
Li Yilan hesitated, disdainfully throwing those unpleasant memories back into the depths of her mind;
